


Charisma and Bolts

by BombGirlPow



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Mental Instability, Oral Sex, Romance, Sexual Content, Silly, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:52:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BombGirlPow/pseuds/BombGirlPow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You just have to take it one day at a time." This is the account of a charismatic prewar lawyer and a Paladin with a sour disposition learning to deal with one another and the odd and off colored peoples of the Commonwealth. Female Soul Survivor and Paladin Danse pairing. The other companions will make appearances too, along with the major factions. Major in-game spoilers inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Paladin No More

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys, this is my first Fallout fanfic. The story line is planned out in my head to be long and chock full of several plot lines. You'll see many of the game's characters, factions and their stories pan out. It'll mainly focus on the F/SS and Danse's interactions - because I love grumpy, well meaning characters getting messed with. Feel free to comment on whether you like it, whether I suck, what to improve upon, and whether you want more.
> 
> *SPOILER WARNINGS*
> 
> This chapter has immediate in-game character spoilers.
> 
> Annnnd...It's also short because it's an intro.

The laser pistol had served him well throughout his career in the Brotherhood of Steel. He couldn't remember exactly when it became a de facto part of his Uniform of the Day, unlike his beloved rifle, but it got the job done when required of it. Huddling in the dark underbelly of the old abandoned military bunker of listening Post Bravo, Paladin Danse knew it would get the job done again one last time.

"Paladin", he spat out in disgust, "M7-97... I'm a god damned abomination." He felt like throwing up again though he just emptied his stomach out not moments before. After wrestling with denial for several hours the grim truth started to sink in. The anonymous tip he received had the highly encrypted signature of Proctor Quinlan. He didn't know who sent the tip, but there was no one in this god forsaken hell hole Commonwealth that could fake it.

His hands shook viciously as he loaded up a fresh fusion cell. "I have nothing left," he then chuckled bitterly, "guess I never truly had anything."

And there it was. Death. His end. Staring up at him from his lap, in the form of a recently Innocuous (well, to him at least) standard issued pistol.

He violently threw it against the wall. Piece of shit fucking pistol! His whole body was shaking now. Without thinking, he rushed out of the basement towards the elevator, setting up every possible defense mechanism on his way through the bunker. Every fiber of his body screamed to stay alive. Whether programming or acquired survival instinct, Danse didn't pause to question what he was suddenly feeling. Numbly, he went to work. The Brotherhood was coming. And he didn't know what else to do but buy himself time.

* * *

Dusk finally set when he awoke to the mechanical whirring of the outside turrets. He could feel the vibrations of gunfire more than hear it. He hadn't meant to doze, but extreme nerves and half a bottle of dusty Vodka later cast intentions to the wind. Danse didn't drink on the job. You don't drink on the damned job. Hell, usually drinking just ended in bad situations anyways. But then he couldn't remember the bad situations associated with drinking...and then he remembered none of his memories were probably real.

Did Cutler ever really exist?

And that's how the bottle found its way to his lips.

The rusted out elevator groaned in protest as it made its way down to the basement. This was it. The Brotherhood was here. His breathing hitched as he looked out the observation window.

But instead of an army, a friend. It was her. His Initiate made knight. No longer goofily fumbling around like when they first met -she was precisely disabling every single one of his defenses, with the combat precision he had a hand in teaching her.

_Why her?! Why did Maxson have to send her?!_

Sudden realization dawned on him, and he sadly smiled.

_Because I couldn't hurt her and live with myself._

Resigned to be at her full disposal, Danse calmly walked out into the common area where she waited amidst a pile of freshly exploded protectron.

"Paladin Danse... "

"Knight Nora Howard."

A small woman in her late 20s stood before him. Long gone was the vault suit and baby fat indicative of a life of prewar luxury. A capable, sharp, and admittedly dangerous Brotherhood Knight stood before him, sniper rifle strapped to her back and 44. Magnum Revolver in her hands.

". . . Why didn't you tell me?"

He swallowed hard. "I didn't know. I. . .I just found out."

She let out a long sigh. He struggled to pinpoint the exact emotions that were playing across her face. This had to be difficult for her as well.

Knight Howard wasn't the most punctual type. She had often played loose with regulation and personnel recall, having been declared UA an embarrassing amount of times. As her Sponsor, Paladin Danse had to dodge and answer a barrage of questions that challenged his own reputation over her integrity and whether she was actually fit for Knighthood. The woman was borderline insufferable at times.

But they had made an extremely effective team. Proctor Ingram herself called them brilliant. And even QuinIan had to cast aside his snobbery for a brief moment to concede that yes, statistically, they've earned the highest marks for mission readiness and accomplishment that the Prydwen has seen In a sponsorship since Paladin Soto and Initiate Williams about three and a half years ago. They even caught Elder Maxson's eye, hand-picked for all of his most important field missions. They had been an inseparable team for several months before today. Before the hunt on his life began.

The air was thick with the tension between each other in now. They were never the best of friends - notoriously known to constantly bicker over how to best accomplish a mission -but they had respected the hell out of each other. This was going to be hard for the both of them.

After a pause that lasted for what seemed like an eternity, Danse decided to break the silence.

"I can't believe he sent you out of everybody else he could've chosen." He shook his head, as if to try to dispel the bad taste of it all, "I know Arthur never really liked to get his own hands dirty, but why you?"

"Yeah. Borderline sadistic isn't it? Sending your partner in? He must really despise you right now. He wants you to feel it."

Danse suspected as much but winced when the remark was said aloud. Nora seemed to not notice or didn't care to show she did and continued, ""...it's despicably petty of him."

That was a little unexpected, but Danse shrugged it off, and donned his normal stoic expression. "He sent you to kill me didn't he?"

The Knight eyed him sadly. He seemed so much smaller clad only in his BOS Uniform and Hood. She briefly wondered what became of his Power Armor. She holstered her 44. "Yeah... but I'm not going to."

"Howard... Nora...you have to do it. I've... I've resigned myself to it. I won't fight back. I'm... a goddamned synth monster and I shouldn't be allowed to exist. I'm everything the Brotherhood stands against and hates. Technology out of control." he started to ramble. Paladin Danse doesn't ramble.

All of a sudden she was furious. "Oh, cut the shit Danse!" She refused to let him carry on like this. "I fought through what...six fucking robots you programed to get to you? That's NOT resignation. You want to live. You just don't want to live with the shame of being a synth."

That stung like a slap to the face.

Her expression softened. "Danse… listen to me... you've done so much good in the world for so many people. Think of all the lives you've saved ... hell, mine on several occasions for example. You're not technology gone wrong." She put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, "You're a good man. And there's still so much good you can do."

Unconvinced, Danse backed himself against an adjacent wall and slid dejectedly to a sitting position.

She decided to change her tactics up slightly. "I didn't know this place existed actually." She paused to look around at her surroundings absently, "Haylen had to come and find me and tell me about it. I was really kind of panicking over where you might be until she came sprinting into Quinlan's office...oh!" She brightened, "you should've seen his face Danse! Looked like he sucked in a really sour fart!" she chuckled to herself and looked up to see if he cracked a smile.

Nothing. Got her about as far as most of the jokes she tells him usually. Most things made him roll his eyes, and scoff. Quinlan jokes usually got her a hidden smile or a snort. Nothing but a haunted look right now.

She continued, "But seriously. Haylen disobeyed orders and abandoned her post and BEGGED me in private to spare you. I didn't need convincing, but she literally travelled miles back to the Prydwen just to talk to me about you. Danse... you're not alone. You have people who care about you…" genuinely she added, "I care about you. And l know I'm a jerk that doesn't show it well, and I tease and bother you and stuff, but I really do. You don't have to die like this." she looked him straight in the eyes with pointed intensity. "You don't have to resign to something you didn't have a choice over. You can choose to pick yourself up and take it one day at a time."

Suddenly the spot on the floor he had been staring at blankly became far less interesting. He knew she was speaking for herself and her own tragic situation as much as for him. He looked up at her with furrowed brows. "What are you going to do Nora? Orders are orders. You going to risk slinking back and shrugging your shoulders at Maxson over a failed mission? Want to be labeled a traitor? And even if you do they're not going to stop trying to hunt me down until the job gets done."

She slid to the floor to sit next to him. "Danse... let's be honest. I'm capable, but I'm a really lousy Knight. I'm too opinionated and I suck at following orders. Especially if the orders are stupid. These orders to eliminate you after everything you've given to the Brotherhood? They're insane. Which is even worse than stupid." distractedly fiddling around with her gloves in a nervous gesture, she added, "You know me better than that. I'm crafty. You're going to give me your holo tags, and I'm going I lie to his face about having killed you "she turned and gave him a reassuring look.

A long sigh escaped the former Paladin's lips. The Brotherhood was everything to him. The idea of having to carry on without it made his chest seize up and bile rise at the back of his throat.

But this woman, seated so close to him now, had lost her child - her whole world. And still, she refused to give up on life or the possibility that he's still out there. If she could be so strong...he would have to try.

He allowed a small smile to slip, "You really are an awful Knight, Nora. Probably the worst I've ever met. I don't know why I ever thought to make you an initiate." He paused and gave her the warmest look she'd ever received from him, "But I guess I'm really glad I did. Damned glad."

She took it as a concession to her request that he keep living and slyly added, "Greatest insult compliment ever Danse. You almost had me going there." punching him a little, she added for effect, "Welcome to the rest of your life. You are now in full control, El Capitan."

He hardly agreed. There were thousands of new questions and mysteries about his identity that nearly crushed him under their massive weight. He felt like he had the least control over his life that he's ever had. But he didn't mention what lingered on his mind and merely relaxed his body a little against the wall next to her.

They sat in peaceful silence for several moments before he decided to speak up again. "Where have you really been all of those times you were marked UA anyways?"

She grinned at him and leaned a little closer, "I promise to tell you the full, undoctored truth of everything...if," she paused for dramatic effect, "you let me have a little bit of that Vodka you were enjoying before I got here."

For the first time she's ever been in his presence, Danse looked a little sheepish. "You can tell?"

"Pfft...I'll have to tell you about my college years too apparently. Danse, I know everything."

And so they sat there, talking for several hours, until there wasn't much else to talk about. She took his holotags, and he told her of his plan to make for the border. She bickered with him, for the last time perhaps, over staying, but he wouldn't have any of it. It wasn't safe for him here anymore, and he would go where he could find purpose again. It was time for her to leave. To lie and to save his life. And it was time for him to start everything over.

A Paladin no more.


	2. A Disgruntled Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the first half of this chapter was ridiculously hard, even though most of it flows with in-game events. It's just, lawdy I need something a little diverging to spice up the fun! Hope you'll enjoy the latter half as much as I did

Danse decided to walk Nora out topside and see her off towards the Prydwen. His heart ached to know he could never return, never feel the type of pride and fulfillment from wearing a Brotherhood of Steel Uniform again. He took a deep breath a closed his eyes. No use dwelling on that at this moment. It wasn't productive.

He looked over his shoulder at his comrade. She seemed to be dragging her feet, pouting. He smiled. She always pouted when she didn't get her way, which was rare. The woman was borderline manipulative at times, often bulldozing others with impassioned speeches and arguments. But it was always for the good and benefit of others. Every single time. Her mind was like a fire that burned people alive if they were too unwise to judge her by her looks alone.

It was a nice dynamic. Danse could bark out orders and motivate soldiers like the best of officers. But civilians took a kind of finesse he just couldn't muster. He always felt semi awkward around them, and would get frustrated when they had the gall to turn him away. Having Nora around made things much smoother. Her charisma, and his hulking form towering off to the side as backup to drive the point home.

"Nora," Danse called out to her, snapping her attention off of her feet. She looked almost surprised at first, then realized it and decided to paste a glower on her face again. He tried to hide his small smile. Maybe it was that weird chemistry of theirs. A polarity of sorts. It seemed like whenever one of frowning, the other often wore a smile. He put that thought aside, "I just wanted to thank you again...for everything."

"Danse." She genuinely looked sad, "You've always been there for me when I needed it." She sighed. "I just really wished...well you know what I want."

"Nora, you know if I could-"

"I'm gonna miss you. Kind of. You big lug." She smiled to herself, "You're my scariest looking friend. Well...besides Nick...and Hancock. Okay you're the most threatening looking." She shook her head and waved her arms before her as if to unjumble her thoughts. "What I mean to say is that you're a great guy. And I know wherever you go, people will be lucky to have you around." She distracted herself by kicking at dirt clods.

A bloom of red spread across his face. "Umm," he coughed, "Thank you soldier. Come on. You can't keep Maxson waiting." at that he started toward the door again.

Truthfully, he was going to miss her too. It's been so damn long since he could trust someone at his back, and he doubted he would ever find that kind of connection again. Especially after learning about his true identity.

He felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

One foot in front of the other. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time. Her voice will stay with him, a mantra in his head. He'll keep her close to him in that respect at least.

As he reached for the handle of the door leading to the Commonwealth, a sudden bad feeling came over him. His hand came up to sign for Nora to stop and stay quiet.

"Danse…" She whispered, "What is it?"

He leaned his head against the cool metal door. A gentle humming vibrated against his face. "Someone's here."

A blinding light greeted them as he opened the door, causing him to shield his eyes as they adjusted.

A Vertibird stood perched a few yards away, high beams contrasting sharply against the night sky, masking an approaching figure.

His stomach plummeted. Elder Maxson himself, eyes blazing, approached with a signaling hand up. Undoubtedly the Vetibird's Gatling laser was trained on them.

"How dare you betray the Brotherhood!" He roared, throwing his free hand towards Nora in an accusatory gesture.

"Maxson, it's not her fault! It's mine!"

Nora pushed past him, as if to shield his body from the Vetibird's line of sight.

"I'll deal with you in a moment, synth!" Maxson spat out, "Knight! Why is this abomination still standing?!"  
"He's not an abomination! He's one of your best men! He didn't know Maxson! Please! You need to listen to us." That fire that was always there, was now tinged with a type of terror he'd never seen in her before. Everything was usually suave, smooth, and confident. Her voice was shaking now. This wasn't a part of her plans, and she was scrambling furiously to catch up.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? I would've thought a prewar lawyer would've had more sense to think rationally when presented with this type of damning evidence! And yet here you are letting attachments and emotion cloud your mind and get in the way of orders." Nora's face hardened at that, and her eyes darkened dangerously. She didn't like it when her competence ever came into question. "It's a machine, guised as a man. Created, not in a mother's loving womb, but the cold and sterile confines of a laboratory! It was fabricated to infiltrate and destroy." He shook his head furiously. "That THING is a single bomb in an arsenal of thousands preparing to lay waste to what's left of mankind!"

Nora visibly had to choke down a bitter sneer, "You accuse me of being irrational, but you use hyperbole and connotations that simple do not exist. You're clouding reality with your fury. You're comparing this man to a bomb! A god damn nuclear bomb Maxson. And if anyone standing here knows what kind of destruction that could cause, well, fuck, it's probably the god damned woman who ran from them when they first fell. My world ended. Everything ended. I know very well what type of damage a nuclear bomb can cause and this man," She thrust a finger in Danse's direction, "This is a good man. A man who cares very deeply for his friends and comrades. This man would die for the Brotherhood's ideals and has nearly done so upon several occasions."

Danse pushed forward to defend himself, "I may have been created in some laboratory somewhere, and some of my memories aren't my own, but when I've seen my brothers fall at my feet dying, I felt real, devastating, sorrow...and when a hard fought victory was finally won, I felt true pride. Maxson...I felt hope swell in my chest when you gave that speech about saving the Commonwealth. I've given every part of myself to the Brotherhood. I've sacrificed...so damn much." he paused and irritably scraped his BOS hood up and over his head, exposing his thick black hair that was pasted to his scalp with sweat. His body was on fire. Everything was burning up and he didn't know how to stop it. "Arthur, can't you see? I thought I was human! I've done absolutely nothing to betray your trust, and I never will!"

"It's too late for that. Your ethics, your feelings? All fabricated. I don't want to hear another goddamned word come out of your mouth. I don't have time to waste my attention on a machine." Maxson stopped his furious pacing, "Knight Howard," She stepped forward, face stony and unyielding. "You need to stand down! If you won't dispatch this thing I will."

"Enough Maxson!" Nora roared while she thrust out her arms to make herself a larger shield for the former Paladin, "If you think for one minute that I can stand here and watch Danse get gunned down and merrily shrug my shoulders and come back to the Prydwen like nothing happened, then you're lying to yourself! I could never live with myself if I allowed that to happen. If you murder this man, you will lose me too! I will wash my hands of any future plans the Brotherhood has in the Commonwealth." angrily, and with some cockiness she added, "and you know you need me. I am the key to bridge the Brotherhood to the technological greatness that was the prewar world. I know the area intimately, I know the technology better than any of your clueless scribes, and I got the finesse to get it all done in a timely manner."

It was like time itself slowed and everything turned silent. Danse could've sworn he could hear his own blood coursing through his veins. Elder Maxson bit the inside of his mouth and angrily turned in place. Nora was right. She had him. And he was furious for it.

"It seems," he started, struggling with every clipped word through his fury, "That we are at an impasse." He motioned for the Vertibird to cut the Gatling's charge. "Danse...as far as I'm concerned, you're dead to the Brotherhood. Gunned down by Knight Howard, your remains incinerated. And if I ever catch word that that you've come near the Prydwen, or made any contact with MY soldiers...we will hunt you down ruthlessly, continuously, until you are no more."

Danse let go of a breath he didn't even know he was holding in. A bout of dizziness took over him and he felt the strong urge to sit down. He was safe. He was positive they would both be gunned down but...she did it. Somehow she pulled through for him again.

He must've missed Maxson storm off while in his own dumbfounded haze. Nora apparently had followed him to receive extenuating orders, and returned just in time to see him wobble on his feet back towards the bunker.

"Danse!" She jogged up to him. She laid a hand upon his shoulder almost tenderly and turned him around. Her eyes were bright. "Are you...are you gonna be alright?"

"Did all of that just really happen? It feels like I'm in a dream."

Nora gave his shoulder a strong squeeze. "You feel that?" Then she pinched him. "That?"

He snapped out of his daze to swat her away. She smiled weakly. He could tell she was still shaken by the whole affair as well.

"He told me...to say my goodbyes and then report immediately to the Prydwen. I'm not really sure what's going to happen." She nervously swiped at her hair behind her ears. "Danse I don't know if he's going to keep his word. I don't think he's the type to take kindly to his orders being disobeyed. I just don't know…I feel...slightly at a loss. I can understand if you still want to leave. It's probably the wisest-"

"I'm not going anywhere." he whispered. "I have faith that Arthur Maxson is an honorable man that'll keep his word. But I won't leave until I know for certain you'll be safe." his dark eyes took on a cutting intensity. He owed everything to this woman. With the Brotherhood over for him, his allegiance to Nora would come first. He'll help her find her son, and the peace she'd been denied of since setting foot into the Commonwealth.

Nora's mouth briefly formed a small 'o' in surprise, which quickly gave way to a toothy grin. Danse sighed. The woman got her way….again.

But if it was having him around that gave her that smirk...he supposed it was more than alright this time. He flashed a small smile. He would let her have her win.

In an almost uncharacteristic manner, she leaned in and embraced him tightly. He's seen her hug her other companions - that newspaper woman, and that...other synth (his mind briefly panicked over the thought of him, though he forced himself to file it away for later), but she never developed that type of closeness to him. They were business first, as it should be.

He immediately stiffened in her arms in slight panic, but after a few moments of her pressed up against him, the warmth and softness of her body melted him into acquiescence. She was shaking slightly too.

"Are you cold Nora?"

"N-no…" She sniffed slightly and looked up at him. Her eyes were dry. "I just...why does everything have to be so damned complicated? I'm...I'm so goddamned angry. Im angry all of the time. It's not enough for the world to take my husband and child away from me, but now I have to struggle tooth and nail to keep those who I care about alive. It's...I'm so fucking tired."

Danse pulled away from her embrace. He couldn't help but feel responsible for her current pain. "This is all my fault. I'm sorry you were dragged into this."

She shook her head, "Stop it. I won't have any of that." She leaned an elbow against some perimeter railing, visibly mentally exhausted, "I was more than happy to fight that battle with you." Danse's face deadpanned in disbelief. "Seriously. I have your back and you have mine remember? That's how it's always been Danse. You're my friend. I hate to admit it to you, because now when I fuck with you now you'll have the high ground. And I really like messing around with you."

His frown satisfied her more than he would've liked. "Why can't you just be normal Nora?"

"Now that wouldn't be fun would it?" She gave him a thin smile. They stood a little out in front of Post Bravo, unsure of what to do next. The minutes seemed to stretch out longer than necessary and the silence was tense.

"It's um.."Danse coughed to clear his throat, "cold out here. And late. Dangerous at this time of night. Did you...want to stay here with me until the morning?"

Her attention snapped to him immediately and her eyes went sharp. Mischievous thoughts likely turning at the cogs in her mind, making Danse immediately catch himself and cough awkwardly. He clearly misspoke.

In the past, one of Nora's favorite things to do to push his buttons was to test the lines of fraternization and doggedly flirt with him. It always caught him off guard and it embarrassed him to no end that she could trip him up like that. But afterwards she would always insist it was innocent and just did it to get under his skin. He could never tell if she was actually being serious or not. And though he didn't want to admit it to himself, protocol aside, she was an attractive, intelligent woman and it felt good to be noticed. He's thought of her, fleetingly, against his will, but it always dissolved away when she decided to be an ass again, embarrass him in front of others, or make other BOS personnel question his sanity for signing her on.

Much to his surprise, she turned away, thinking better of herself. Now was not the time. Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, "I would. I'm really...very much dreading going back to the Prydwen. Maxson expects me back tonight. Told me a bird would pick me up about 40 clicks east. And I want to make sure you're going to be alright-"

He cut her off, "Nora, I don't need-"

"Yeah yeah. I get it. You're a tough guy and don't want to be mothered. Maybe it would be more for me than you." She cupped his hands into her own, giving them a squeeze. Her eyes were fire, determination winning out over exhaustion, "I'll be back for you. You're not alone. I'll be back as soon as I can and everything will be okay. I promise you Danse."

He stared at her hands, soft against his own, and nodded. Nothing would ever be okay again.

"I'll be here." Was all he said in response before she embraced him one last time and then disappeared into the night

He was alone with his thoughts.

* * *

She couldn't stop fucking up. One messed up, trashed to hell situation after the next, she thought bleakly. It had been a week since she parted from Danse, and she was nervous as high hell for his mental health and personal safety, angrily berating herself from not being able to sneak away from the Prydwen earlier. Elder Maxson saw to it himself to order the rest of the upper chain of command to keep her busy. It was mostly small tasking here and there for Proctor Teagan and Senior Scribe Neriah across the commonwealth, as the brunt of Brotherhood resources and manning continued to assemble Liberty Prime.

She shuddered. Liberty Prime...something that was beginning to haunt her nights just as frequently as the thought of Shaun and the Institute. So many goddamned mistakes, taken on emotional whims and bad information - that she was too stupid to question - possessed her conscience.

She was terrified that she might be the key to another nuclear holocaust.

As the Vertibird she was riding cut right as it began to make its descent to the eastern outskirts of Maldin, Nora bent over to grab Dogmeat's collar to stabilize him. Buckled in as he already was, the Bird's harnesses weren't built to accommodate faithful canine companions, so he ended up sliding around more than Nora felt comfortable with.

"Ma'am, what are your further orders for retrieval?" the Bird's scribe copilot called out.

"There aren't any. This is a covert operation...that erm...is highly classified and...if I need further assistance I'll send a signal for any patrolling units. Return to the Prydwen and...don't spread any of this around, or, you know. Elder Maxson will take disciplinary action against any offending parties."

The scribe looked at her skeptically for a brief moment but shrugged it away. Nora was the commanding officer at the moment and it was definitely about time for the scribe's rotation to end.

After the vertibird landed and took off again, Nora waited a few moments to ensure it wouldn't circle around once more, in a bout of careful paranoia. Things were so different now. Everything about the Brotherhood, once the best means to find Shaun, now seemed so damn ugly.

After the Prydwen's crew was informed about Paladin Danse's "treachery", gossip and trash talk spread around the airship like wildfire. Brothers and Sisters that were once enthusiastic comrades in arms to the Paladin now spat on his memory, defaming any of his past accomplishments, insisting he was never trustworthy, that they knew something was up with him. That he was awkward and seemingly inhuman from the start. It made Nora sick to her stomach. The worst of it was when people would come up to her and pat her on the shoulder, praising her quick dispatch of "that synth infiltrator".

They were a fucking cult. Yes, Nora questioned everything from the start, and was never the most enthusiastic of soldiers, but she just didn't realize how far it went.

She had to run. She had to run somewhere, sit down and think. Think really fucking hard on all of her fuckups and how to escape the quicksand she dug herself into.

Dogmeat barked enthusiastically as he picked up on the former Paladin's scent outside of Listening Post Bravo. The two had become fast friends ever since Nora first stumbled upon Danse's recon team over half a year ago at the Cambridge Police Station. The quiet, commanding (even slightly intimidating) Paladin who rarely cracked a smile always had one reserved for Dogmeat. She even convinced him (hassled him more like) to please please please let Dogmeat stay onboard the Prydwen in his quarters in secret because she didn't want to leave him at the airport and he wasn't allowed in the common berthings up a deck where she slept.

She wasn't THAT surprised to see him agree to her request, knowing the scowl plastered on his face was totally fake. She bet her pipboy that he secretly was stoked to have a puppy to cuddle at night. Big softie pushover.

She thought bringing the dog might cheer him up. "You wanna see Danse boy? Huh? Yes you do! Yes you do! Go get 'em Dogmeat!" and at that the German Shepard took off loping across the rest of the distance to the bunker in an excited flurry.

God she hoped he was alright.

He told her he would make the bunker more "homely" before she left...but it was just still an absolute depressing disaster.

"Danse?!" she called out when the elevator reached the lower floor. She could hear some music playing off in the distance, and a dull rhythmic clanging, but no response. Dogmeat stayed behind her, all of a sudden unsure in the dark. "Hey, big guy! I'm back, I told you I'd be!" As she rounded the corner she spotted him fiddling with a pneumatic coupler attaching a suit of power armor to a workstation. She let go of a sigh she didn't realize she was holding and smiled. Thank god.

"I had no doubt you'd keep your word." he turned around and Nora sucked in a sharp breath of air. The man looked absolutely awful. His skin had gone all sallow and sickly pale, which contrasted sharply with the dark bruises formed beneath his eyes. He even looked to have lost some weight maybe, if Nora judged correctly.

Dogmeat bounded over to him, whimpering softly, tail wagging. A weak smile formed on the former Paladin's face as he kneeled down to greet his friend. "Hey boy."

"Danse...I umm...how are you?" There was a rush of questions she wanted to ask him, maybe even scold him for not taking care of himself better, but she decided to be soft instead. He needed her.

Standing up seemed from the kneeling position seemed to be too much for him and he would've toppled over if she weren't there to catch him by the arm. The close proximity caused her to gag on the smell of old liquor and sweat. "Jesus Danse, you're a mess." She said with sympathy.

He snorted and started to tremble with silent, bitter laughter. "Oh God don't I know it."

"Here, let's sit you down and rest a bit okay? I'm sure your power armor - Jesus how'd you find power armor so damned fast? - I'm sure it can wait a bit to be worked on." She plopped him down at a small, rickety desk he had in his living quarters and turned down the radio he'd been blasting.  
She dug through her rucksack for a few moments as he slowly blinked in an attempt to adjust his drunken eyesight to focus on her.

After procuring some purified water and wetting a clean rag with a satisfied hum, she pulled a chair parallel to him and began to wipe the grease and grime from his face in gentle circles. The water was cool and soothing and seemed to help bring a little of his senses back. Nora caught his eyes and her heart melted. Absolute devastation stared back at her, deep, dark, and complex, aching with a hurt she just couldn't quite fathom. The empathy she felt for this man burned her.

"Nora...you came back for me." he seemed surprised, as if this were the first time seeing her today.

She nodded and smiled, "Yes I did Danse. I care about you." He looked like he wanted to cry, but his eyes remained dry. She just continued to clean his face off.

All of a sudden he grabbed her hands and leaned in impossibly close, his face a mere couple of inches away. Nora froze up, unsure of what was happening. His eyes still held hers, impossibly intense, seemingly seeing right through her.

"Uhh..Danse...what-"

And then he tried to kiss her.

Unfortunately for him - well, for her as well, as she took the brunt of the impact - Danse stumbled forward, drunkenly cracked his head against her own, and toppled onto her with the full of his weight as they hit the floor. Nora choked out a noise similar to that of a deflated balloon as the wind got knocked out of her.

"Fuck! Ow! Fuck why?!" she gasped out as she regained the ability to breathe, struggling to get out from under his dead weight. The man was completely KO'd. This is what she gets whenever she tries to make things right.

Dogmeat barked furiously at the whole scene and decided to help by licking at their faces, causing Nora to groan and nearly cry in frustration.

"No! Bad dog! Go lay down! Shit why!?" The man was god awful heavy and a rigid mess. His muscles should've been sexy but they were just uncomfortable and dense at the moment and she was angry. After her fifth bout of wiggling, she finally got free of him and rolled to the side.

She just laid there for a moment in defeat. "Why? Why can't anything be easy?" She reached up and touched her forehead where his head hit and hissed. There was definitely a bump, and there was definitely going to be a bruise. She just sighed and willed the ability to sink into the ground.

After several minutes' worth of pity party, Nora decided to get up and be productive. She rolled out her bedroll next to Danse and scooted him into it, absolutely positive she wouldn't be able to lift him to his own bed. Dogmeat did exactly what Nora brought him for, worked his cuddly magic, and decided to curl up next to Danse and nap with him.

"I'll stand the watch for ya, big guy. Rest easy and I'll be here for you when you wake. Cunningly trying to knock me out with your massive head weight failed, so uh, yeah, you're stuck with me." She said out loud to him, more for her own entertainment than anything. She deposited her Magnum on the desk, pulled out a Grognak comic she's read 50,000 times over and reclined into a comfortable position. This was going to be a long day.


	3. A Wake Up Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was waaaaay more fun to write. I feel like I can pump these out forever at this rate! I'm on fiyah baby!

“Nora?”

She sprung herself from her doze in slight panic and struggled to figure out where she was. She fell asleep on watch…as per usual.

“Nora?”

“Mhmm? Danse? You’re awake? How’re you feeling?” She mumbled as she groggily came to. She could hear rustling behind her as he stood up from her bed roll. 

“Why am I in the floor? And is this…is this your bed roll?”

She tapped on her pip boy to check the time. About 6 hours had blazed by. Oh how time flies when you have nothing but Grognak struggling with the Bat Babies again for company. “Well, you passed out, and you’re heavy so…” she shrugged’ “I tried my best.”

He looked sheepishly at the ground for a moment before deciding to give Dogmeat a pat on the head in thanks. She could tell he was ashamed to be seen this way. She sighed. It really was all very understandable, and she felt nothing but sympathy for him. Hell, she didn’t even mind the huge bump she sported under her bangs now. 

She was just frustrated because she knew that in his state of self loathing, he would just dig a deeper and deeper hole every single time he would let himself show any form of weakness. He was always so damn self critical and fragile before his identity crisis, suffering from mid-to severe PTSD (Nora snooped around aboard the Prydwen, understandably wanting more info on the man she was commanded to follow around-possibly to her own death ), and now this. 

She was so terrible at solving her own mountain of problems and emotions, often keeping herself busy until she didn’t have time to think on them. Fixing other people’s problems, practicing her lock picking (a greaser she dated in college taught her that one), practicing hacking terminals, keeping everything tidy and clean and in their proper spots. This…she wanted so very badly to not fuck this up.

She decided the only thing she could do is try to distract him, just as much as she tried to distract herself.

She rubbed her face thoughtfully, “You hungry at all?” He shook his head and fiddled a bit with Dogmeat’s collar, distractedly. Liar, she thought. “Well, when’s the last time you ate?”

“I’m not hungry Nora.” He said with finality, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“That’s not what I asked. Stop being so stubborn. You haven’t eaten in days have you?”

His silence was all the answer she needed. Nora grumbled and immediately started to rummage through her pack.

“Just…just stop Nora.” He suddenly stood up in frustration and paced around , “What does it even matter? I’m not human.” He shook his head and bit the inside of his mouth, “just…don’t.”

Her eyes went wide. She was absolutely shocked. What kind of warped thinking did he corner himself into? 

“Danse, are you freaking serious?! “ She jumped to her feet, “You’re not Nick! You still need to eat! You bleed still right?” at this she poked him “you feel hunger pains right? Still have skin and muscle and digestive organs? You’re made of biomaterial, just like me. All those millions and billions of cells? They will die if you don’t feed them. Now stop being an ass, sit down, and get ready for my bad cooking…cause you’re gonna eat it.” 

He just stared at her stubbornly for a few more moments in a small act of defiance before sitting back down. He must’ve been too weak to argue further. 

She knew he wasn’t stupid. Hell, he even sounded smart at times when he wasn’t puking up more ridiculous Brotherhood dogma. He was like an awkward walking dictionary and had a really vast knowledge for prewar history. Those were always her favorite conversations with him back when they traveled on BOS missions together. 

This was common sense to her. And she knew for a fact he knew it too and was just torturing himself. Not anymore. Not under her watch. 

“Hmm...let’s see what's for dinner…or is it breakfast?” She mused conversationally, all sternness gone from her voice. Two cans of Cram (ugh) and three tatos...and a can of potato crisps. She can work with this. Horribly. But it can be done. Maybe a broth? She didn’t want him throwing it all up if it was too rich. “Hey, be cool and turn the radio on huh?”

He did, and she hummed along with tunes even if she didn’t know the words. He just watched her for awhile before reaching for his mostly drank bottle of vodka. 

“Mmm, no...okay one swig each, and then no more. You gotta eat first or you’ll poison yourself. And theeeennnn….we’re leaving this place. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you stay here.”

He took a small swig and handed to her. “Oh yeah? Is that what’s happening? You must be under some delusion that I didn’t leave the Commonwealth just so I could be ordered around by you.” He said, though without any poison. He just sounded tired. 

“Well, you’re not my boss anymore. Gotta stretch my wings. Lead from the front and all.” She grinned. 

That earned her snort. “You’re just an ass, that’s what you are. When did I ever boss you around? I always let you take point.”

“Mmm, you do like to be told what to do, huh?” She winked. 

Oddly enough he didn’t turn red or stutter or anything like she wanted - he actually looked comforted. Like her carrying on as normal and not treating him differently now that they knew the truth of his identity lifted a small weight off his shoulders. She was glad. 

“I’m taking you to Sanctuary with me.” She nodded, as if agreeing with herself, “no more depressing, cold military caves. You’re gonna live with me.”

“There are people there…”

“Don’t worry - I’m not gonna tell anybody anything about you being a synth, (he winced at the word) that’s always going to be for you to decide. But you can’t live out the rest of your life alone. You just can’t Danse.”

He sighed and put a hand on his forehead. “The whole Brotherhood knows. It’s bound to spread around the Commonwealth.”

“Nah, nobody here likes those guys.” She waved a wooden spoon she was cooking with for emphasis, “No one will care or believe them.” 

It was like something broke in the room.

He looked at her in utter disbelief. “Did you really just say that? You know, you’re still technically a Knight..Paladin now probably. And they really are a force for good-”

“Eh.” She interrupted him and just shrugged. “It’s the truth.” 

Danse disliked that. 

“What?! Listen, just hear me out! I completely agree that the Brotherhood has done some incredibly heroic and selfless acts in the past, and I’m very much not tarnishing that, I promise you. I know how much they...we...sacrifice. But, “ she sighed, “Danse, what if they’re wrong about a lot of things lately? I mean, they couldn’t be anymore dead wrong when it comes to you.”

He softened at this.

“And maybe - just try to be open minded with me on this - maybe they got non-feral ghouls wrong too? I mean, that’s what I’ve always thought - and I’m a - mostly - good person aren’t I? Maybe their harsh methods of trying to unite the Commonwealth is the furthest thing needed maybe-”

He put a hand up, “I’ve heard enough on the Brotherhood of Steel...please.”

Things grew tense again. 

One step forwards, two steps back. Way to go Nora. “Yeah...sorry.” Why did she have to bring them up like that? Why did she have to be so stubborn and holier-than-thou all the time?

Breakfast was quiet, save for Dogmeat’s chops slapping noisily as he lapped up half a can of Cram. The food was kind of gross, but you couldn’t really ask for anything much better out in the Commonwealth anyways. At least Danse was able to keep it all down. 

Chalk it up as one more step forward, Nora supposed.

“About the Brotherhood-” Danse began.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have -”

“You might be right.”

Nora’s brows shot upward. This was different.

“Things have been...getting a little out of hand lately. I mean of course...before all of this. I’ve felt it for some time, but I tried to deny it. Push it away...be a good soldier.” He swallowed, as if finally admitting it hurt, “I just wanted to take care of my men. Make sure they were safe,” bitterly he added, “even if I wasn’t the best at it.”

Nora waited for him to continue. Her sharp attentiveness gave him the courage to do so.

“I stumbled upon one of Haylen’s holotapes once...thinking it was just a routine report that needed approval. Upon playing it I immediately realized it was personal in nature, but I...I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t cut the feed. I just listened. I wanted to know if she was okay. After that time I held her as she cried, I was worried for her. But it was just her, criticising the Brotherhood.”

Nora knew exactly what holotape he was talking about, but decided to keep that one to herself and nodded along. He really didn’t need to know the extent of her nosiness. 

“And it kind of just stuck with me. Like a virus that plagued my mind and wouldn’t go away. I tried to ignore my thoughts, but every time I had downtime my mind would just wander back to her words and play them over and over again. Maybe that’s why...when I was with you...I let you take the lead on most things. You were an outsider. A fresh set of eyes. Maybe, in some unthinking way, I wanted to see someone who wasn’t yet shaped by the Brotherhood’s ideals handle the difficult situations we were put up against.” He rubbed a hand through his hair and all of a sudden hissed in pain.

“What the hell...what the hell is this thing on my head?”

Ah, thought Nora. He finally found the large lump on the crown of his head that twinned her own. “You hit it on a really hard, dense rock.” She swiped her own hair from her forehead and pointed at hers.

He just looked at her, mouth hanging open a little in bewilderment. 

She couldn’t help but find extreme mirth by his dumbfounded expression and erupted into series of unlady-like snort-laughs as she doubled over. 

Though still slightly confused, Danse decided to quietly comment, “You really have a very ugly laugh, Nora.” 

Of course, this only led to an even larger fit of hysterics on her part until she started to cry and hyperventilate.

Danse couldn't help but crack a smile of his own and chuckle. He stayed in the Commonwealth for a clown. 

After breakfast, Nora made sure everything that was necessary was packed and ready to go. She didn’t plan on returning, so she made sure she was thorough. This place gave her the heebie-jeebies. “You okay to drive?” She tilted her head towards the rusted power armor he had been fiddling with hours ago.

“You don’t drive Power Armor, you operate it.” He said matter-of-factly. 

“Geez, I was joking you square. Don’t get all tech manual on me. Where the hell did you find the damn thing anyways?”

He tilted his head in thought. “There was an abandoned military caravan not to far from here. I found it a couple days ago at night. Had to hack a terminal to get to it.”

She wiped at a fake tear in her eye, “Oh Danse, I taught you that. My big metal trash can is growing up.”

He rolled his eyes at the derogatory name she’d been hounding him with for months. “I got it down a lot quicker than you did when I showed you how to shoot that Magnum properly. God, I’ve never seen such bad form. It’s a wonder you could even shoot a rifle at all when we first met with those chicken arms of yours.”

She grinned, and her eyes went bright. “You really are growing up. You’re insults are getting much better. Stick with me kid!" She grabbed his shoulder and waved her free arm in front of her as if she were showing him something, "And the world will be our oyster!”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled, “I have no idea what that is.”

“Well...you know. It’s a type mollusk.” No lightbulb went off, “Uh...like a clam...at type of seafood? You know...used heavily in lady-bits innuendos.” She waggled her eyebrows and fingers suggestively. Nothing. “God damn the future sucks! Those things where damned delicious you know! A goddamned delicacy.” She slapped her hand on the wall in bitter defeat. Danse just shrugged. 

“Uh, I just need to...properly this time...disengage all the pneumatic couplers from the workstation and ensure that the shocks are properly pressurized. Should only take a few moments.” He sniffed as he looked up at his X-01 Power Armor. At that he tightened his old BOS uniform’s sleeves around his waist and wiped his hands on his already filthy undershirt before reaching for an adjustable vice-grip.

“Hey...you’re not going to wear that uniform when we leave this place are you?” She asked, more concerned than disgusted by its state of cleanliness. She’s already panicked over that and gotten over it hours ago. “We don’t want to be a bigger target to the Brotherhood than we already are.”

He shook his head as he continued working. One of the pneumatic hoses came loose and produced a loud hiss. He had to shout over it, “No, I found some old military fatigues a while ago I planned on wearing. I’m only in this right now because they aren’t as comfortable and don’t fit properly. They either belonged to a large woman, or a really short man.”

The hissing stopped. Thoughtfully, Nora walked back into his room while he continued to work. Dogmeat padded over to her, licking nervously at her hands. The mechanical hissing must’ve scared him a little. “Hey boy, it’s okay. Nothing to worry about sweetheart.” She ruffled his fur a little and reached for her pack. 

Inside she delicately laid her hands onto leather, a wave of emotion washing over her. Kellogg’s jacket. This belonged to the man who murdered her husband and took her son from her...and against all awful feelings she had over it, she had kept it.

She sighed. She could almost hear Nate’s voice in the back of her head every time she struggled over whether she should keep it or not. “Honey,” He would say to her, in that patient way of his that was always tinted with slight amusement, “what would the practical thing be? That’s a perfectly good jacket and it’s cold outside.”

She had the very same struggle with Kellogg’s Magnum...and her wedding ring she was forced to sell in order not to starve when she first decided to trek out across the Commonwealth towards Diamond City. 

“Sweatheart, that gun will keep you safe when you look for our son.” Or, “Baby, you’re hungry. You don’t need that silly band around your finger to know that I love you.”

She covered her mouth with one of her hands and choked back a sob that threatened to escape her throat. She started to shake. She would be strong. For Nate. For Shaun. For Danse….for herself. She composed herself the best she could, put on her lawyer face, and grabbed Kellogg’s old outfit and strode back towards her friend. He was just beginning to finish up.

“Hey Danse?” She called out pleasantly, pushing her emotions down, “I think this might fit you if you’d like to try it on.”

He turned towards her, and flashed her a curious glance. Maybe he could see right through her? She just smiled more to deter any questions. 

“Where’d you get this?” He touched the leather, “This is really well made material.”

“Oh, you know me…” She grinned and waved a free arm around, “Odds and ends.” Mentally she kicked herself. She couldn’t believe she just quoted crazy Myrna.

He looked a bit skeptical but nodded and told her he’d try it on. 

And boy, did it fit him well. Almost didn’t look like the same outfit. Almost. “Ho’ boy you look dapper as all hell Danse. Didn’t know you were so handsome under all of that grease.” She teased, though her heart wasn’t really into it this time. 

He just coughed awkwardly and turned red. His discomfort cheered her a little. 

As he climbed into his Power Armor, she decided to recite what her plans were. She studied her Pipboy’s map whilst talking, “Hmm...Looks like we’ll reach Diamond City in the afternoon at around 1600-ish.” 

“Wait-” his suit hissed shut (Dogmeat whined), “I thought we were heading for Sanctuary. Why the heck are we cutting south towards Diamond City and causing needless time waste?”

“I need to get some materials for the settlement. I really will feel absolutely terrible if I come back empty handed….do you know how long it’s been since I told Preston I was simply going out to pick up more copper wire? Three weeks.” She kicked at the dirt guiltily, “I get distracted really easily I guess.”

He exhaled sharply. He really was uncomfortable at the idea of being around a lot of people. 

Nora tried to sweeten the deal. “We can uh...pick up a couple of refurbished Power Armor plates while there. My treat!”

“Do I really even have a choice?” He sounded exhausted by her antics, but simply pointed towards the way out with his lowered laser rifle. “Well, let’s go if we must.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I have a Tumblr account by the same name (BombGirlPow) if you want to visit and nerd out with me over Fallout and Mass Effect and stuff. I'm soooooo lonely on there right meow!


	4. An Important Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd...here's another chapter from Danse's POV. Enjoy! It's a little lengthier than I intended, so that's why it took a little longer to post.

Danse shuddered as the hot water ran down his spine. The whiskey he nabbed from the bar kept him company as he attempted to shower the grime and bad thoughts away in the Dugout’s showers.

He mused that it must’ve been communal showers prewar for the city’s baseball team (“The Red Sox Danse! Greatest Baseball team in the history of the world! Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise!” Nora had explained to him matter-of-factly.) But now it was a simple room divided separately for the genders, and then divided again into separate cubicles per shower. Which was a luxury the Brotherhood never afforded to him.

Being alone with his thoughts had soured any enjoyment he might’ve gained from it otherwise, and being social out in the bar was just out of the question. He couldn't take being surrounded by all of the bar’s patrons right now.

When he left, Nora had been loudly gabbing it up with Hawthorne, Vadim, and a multitude of others, arguing about something or other that Danse thought nonsensical. He had excused himself quietly, only getting a half noticed nod from his friend who was too engrossed in her righteous shout down squabble over the others.

He couldn't comprehend it. How a person could enrapture an entire room. When she walks in, she becomes the center of the universe. She's charming, yet rough around the edges. She's knowledgeable and experienced, yet she has no clue what's happening and looks at everything with wonder. When she talks to you, her eyes are bright and her whole person is focused on what you’re saying. And she always says the right thing. Laughs at the right time, comments when necessary.

He took another swig of whiskey as he leaned against the shower wall.

He was so awkward. Didn't know the difference from the back end of a conversation to his own foot in his mouth. And people knew it. They looked at him oddly or where always so gruff towards him. And he never really cared. Until now. Until his mind kept picking at itself over and over with the question, “Am I awkward because I'm not human?” or, “Am I incapable of connecting or understanding because they made me this way?”. They made him this way. They made him awkward and awful and incapable of getting close to anyone. They set him up to be alone. Always alone with his own fake memories and his own fake mind.

Or even worse...maybe he had replaced a real, living man. If all of the horror stories in the Commonwealth had been true, could he simply have been a hollow replacement for a captured Brotherhood soldier against his will?

He was shaking with panic now, and the bottle slipped from his hands.

His blood flowed gracefully with the water like a dance before languidly making its way down the drain. The shock of red didn't even register with him. The pain even less so. He gasped for air and clawed at his face and his chest burst with pain. Walls closing in on him. Water drowning him.

A fist slamming on the shower’s door snapped him back to reality.

“Eh? Everything okay in there? I heard a crash.” It was the accented man who sold them their hotel room. Danse didn't remember his name.

His own voice was hoarse when he replied, “Yeah...sorry I dropped a bottle.”

“Hey! There's no drinking in the showers! Oh I swear to God the type of people we draw in…” He started cursing in another language as he trailed off out of the room.

Danse cut the water. He realized his feet were bleeding and grew angry with himself. Careless. Stupid.

He toweled off, cleaned up his mess, and dressed in a rush to go back to the room they shared.

Hours ago, when they had first arrived in Diamond city, Nora had bee lined straight to Publick Occurrences and banged on the door. “Piper! It's me! Your star!” dramatically, she had added, “I'm here for that raise we talked about!”

A little girl around the age of 12 had opened the door, with a cynical look plastered on her face. “Hey lady, I don't know what the heck you’re talking about, but Piper ain't here right now. She’s investigating something for our next paper out of town.” She paused, as Nora lingered a bit, then she pushily added, “You gonna buy a paper or what?”

Nora simply ruffled the girl's hair, much to her annoyance (Danse noted that Nora was so irritating she even got on children’s nerves) told the girl to inform Piper that she was in town, and then scurried off to complete her chores. As sundown set, she dragged him over to the Dugout Inn and attempted to get them rooms for the night.

The only one that was available was room No. 2, but it came with a couch so it wasn't too bad. At Nora’s insistence, he had ditched his Power Armor in the room’s corner and joined her in the bar’s common area for dinner. The food was tasteless and the room was crowded and everything went sour for him from there.

Luckily, upon entering his room after his shower, Nora wasn’t there to freak out over his feet and try to mother him.

He opened up a small med kit he stored in his Armor and began to administer first aid to his feet when he heard a knock on his door.

Before he could tell whomever to go away, in entered the Newspaper woman, cap all askew and a small smile on her lips.

“What?” he said, voice dripping indignation. He really didn't need to be put to the third degree by the nosy reporter who clearly had a distaste for all things Brotherhood of Steel.

Her smile faltered a little bit, as if his curt greeting had cut her. But she tried at it again and spoke amicably, much to Danse’s surprise. “Hey there,” she pointed a thumb out towards the bar, “Nora said you'd be in here. Listen...I was talking to her, and uh...she told me about how you weren’t a part of the Brotherhood anymore. That you took a stand against your leader.”

His face twisted up in panic and he stood up, which made Piper jump a few steps. “What exactly did she tell you?”

Startled, though not cowed, she simply replied, “Just...that you didn't agree with a policy of his or something and you decided to take a stand.”

“That's it?”

She nodded and looked at him awkwardly. Like most people did. A small pause hung in the air before she shook her head, and continued, “You know...I just wanted to tell you I think that's very brave of you. I know that in the past, we never really got along. And you know, maybe a lot of that was my fault. I heard you were part of this big invasive force that was sweeping the Commonwealth, armed to the teeth and pushy with a near-religious fervor...I don't know, I guess I just judged you without really knowing you.”

Danse’s surprise must've been evident, as her smile was shy and sympathetic. “Thank you, citi…Piper.”

“You know...I understand. To stand up for what's right and to be shunned, or practically criminalized by it.” She looked thoughtful, her hazel eyes staring at nothing in particular as she remembered, “I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've been threatened, beat, jailed and driven from town. You know, I got poisoned once. I'll have to tell you about it sometime.” At this she chuckled a bit and shook her head.

Danse didn't know what to say. All of this was completely unexpected and he just didn't know how to react to it all. But, a small part of himself had to admit, it felt a little nice to be accepted and held in high regard by one of Nora’s good friends. His friend trusted this reporter so much...maybe there was something to her.

“Anyways, maybe I can buy you a drink and you can tell me all about it. For the longest time I've been wanting to write a story about the corruption of the Brotherhood. You can give me an inside scoop, and maybe we can really take these bastards down.”

And anything good he might’ve thought of her for those few brief moments went straight to hell in a handbasket. Of course she wanted something from him. All those nice words and sympathy? Of course they were fake.

With a huff, he got up, slipped on his boots (his feet still bloody) and the jacket Nora gave him, and walked out of the room towards the Dugout’s exit.

“Hey! Did I say something wrong!?” Piper yelled from across the bar, garnering the attention of nearly everyone there. He noticed from the corner of his eye that even Nora was watching, surprise and concern mixing on her face.

“I’m going for a walk. Don’t follow me.”

And with a slam of the door, he put the hot, crowded room of the Dugout behind him.

Diamond City’s weather was crisp at this time of year, with the Commonwealth fast approaching fall. Enough so that it warranted he shrug into his jacket further and stuff his hands into their pockets.

Aimlessly, he strode through town, trying to walk off his fury. The nerve of that woman. Insinuating that he would ever slander the Brotherhood after everything he’s been through with his Brothers and Sisters. Implying that he wanted to betray them. Yes, Arthur Maxson had done wrong by him. He finally has come to terms with that. And yes, maybe some of the Brotherhood’s ideals were a little skewed. But it was all he had had. It was his family.

His mind trailed off with the angry rant for some time before he looked up and realized where he was. Whether by fate, or an unconscious desire to torture himself, Danse had found that his feet had taken him directly in front of a large, neon sign that read in bold letters ‘DETECTIVE’. He was at the mouth of the alleyway leading down to that freak’s office. The synth.

Though they looked world's different from each other, they were one in the same. And the thought of it all crushed him into the ground.

Before he could help himself, he started his way down the alley, devoid of thought and filled with a cold fire. He froze at the door, the gears in his mind grinding over whether this was the right thing to do or not. He entered.

“Hey Ellie, I need case file #327B. Looks like Vick Montolio is at his old games and is terrorizing the Harkins’ family again.” Came the robot’s voice, thick like the smoke in the air. Both of their backs had been turned from Danse, the secretary digging through some filing cabinets and the synth scribbling at some papers at the back desk.

“Be with you right in a-,” The detective half-turned, and immediately deadpanned at the sight of Danse, “Oh. It's you. What do you want? Here to irritate me some more?” He looked slightly surprised to see him of average height, not towering above everybody in his Power Armor like a hulking behemoth.

“I need answers. “Though Danse was going for aggressive, he had unfortunately managed desperation. The secretary looked concerned. “Alone.” he added, for good measure.

Nick stared him down for a few tense moments, clearly annoyed. Danse wasn't exactly sure what he would do if the synth tried to throw him out -he hadn't really considered that possibility before he stormed in. But it was quickly looking like that might be the case. He tensed up.

Nick nodded and held a hand out to a seat adjacent of his desk. “Ellie, go and take the rest of the evening off. Now don't give me that look. Everything will be fine. Danse here is an old….friend.” The last word dripping with cynicism.

Once they were alone, Nick lit himself a cigarette and leaned back into his chair. He tilted his chin towards the pack, offering his smokes up, upon which Danse took.

“First things first.” The detective spoke through clouds of smoke, “is Nora alright?”

“Yes. She’s at the Inn.” Danse fidgeted nervously in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the whole meeting, “she doesn't know I'm here.”

“Ah, so it's a personal matter that brought you here. Well, Hell must've frozen a dozen times over if you're seeking out my help.”

“I don’t…” He ran his free hand through his hair “I don't know anyone else that would be able to answer my questions the way you can.”

Nick paused to study him, interest clearly peaked. “Well, go on. What do you have for me?”

Danse pressed a hand into his eyes and took a drag from his cigarette, attempting to work up some courage, “They...I'm no longer a part of the Brotherhood of Steel. They threw me out.” another long drag from a shaking hand.

Nick pushed the rest of the pack forward towards him with his skeletal hand and a look that said, ‘have as many as you’d like’, then continued to give him his undivided attention. Danse briefly wondered if his own hand looked the same beneath his skin.

“Nora had given them a holotape that had scanned the Institute’s network. Unbeknownst to either of us, it had a long archive of all the synths that have ever been created by the Institute and their DNA sequences.” He looked into the synth’s eerie eyes with his own pained ones, and bitterly added, “Apparently, I'm the perfect match for one. M7-97. So I was kicked out, hunted down, and my death faked.” His eyes went wild, and his voice shook “I don't know what to do. How to cope with the fact that I'm a monster….that everything I thought I was is a lie….that I never had a childhood.” Violently, he stood up, knocking his chair over, “Dammit...I want to know why!? What kind of fucking people get off on building something that can feel pain and emotion, give it shit memories, and send it off into the fucking wastes to suffer? What the Hell are we, Valentine?”

The detective’s cigarette hung low in his mouth, mostly now ash from neglect. He stared at his hands as he mulled over the information that Danse had bombarded him with.

“Well,” he eventually replied in near disbelief, “that's quite possibly the most shocking thing that's been said in this office. And I once had a client that was cryogenically frozen for 200 years and looking for her long lost son. You want a drink? I’d definitely join you, but...you know. Don't digest the stuff very well.”

Danse nodded, desiring to take the edge off of this difficult conversation. Half a glass of Bourbon later, his heart had stopped its painful pounding in his chest and he’d finally relaxed a bit.

“So...you're a synth. The irony sounds like a bad cosmic joke. And nobody here is laughing.” Valentine lit himself another cigarette, then continued, “I'm sorry to hear it. I don't wish this type of existence even on my worst enemies. So… you're asking why?” he tapped away at some ash, “I can't really answer that for you. No synth can. Some sort of fail-safes encoded into our minds to prevent us from spilling the Institute’s beans. So, I can't tell you why, and I can't tell you the location of the place,” he took another deep drag, “but I might be able to tell you some of the hows.”

Danse eyes were bright and expectant. His cigarette was long abandoned on the ashtray and his drink gone. “Tell me what you can. Anything.”

Nick nodded, and poured him another drink, “Well, let's see. My own origin story is cut-and-dry. A detective from the prewar world volunteered for an experiment, and I have the pleasure of being plagued by his memories. It's a lovely struggle everyday of trying to figure out where he ends and I begin. Then, I woke up in a trash pit, obviously discarded because because they couldn't handle how pretty I am compared to you Gen 3’s-”

At this, Danse stopped him, “Gen 3’s?”

Valentine nodded, “Yeah. Gen 1’s are brainless skeletons, and Gen 2 you've probably ran into. They’re the fellows that look like me, and tote guns around doing the Institute’s dirty work. Gen 3s are you fancy folks who can seamlessly pass as human. Lucky bastards. Least you can have a drink now and again.” He waved at the bourbon, “what I wouldn't give for some bourbon or a nice aged scotch…” he trailed off wistfully, “And then there’s me, a prototype that lies somewhere in between Gen 2 and 3. Oh, and of course the Coursers. Stay away from those. They get wind you’re a defective and they’ll hunt you down until you’re either destroyed or reclaimed. They’re about as powerful as you are in your Power Suit.”

“Trust me I know.” He leaned back in his chair, the bourbon having worked its magic, “I was there with Nora when we took one down in Greentech Genetics.” He shook his head, “Thing tore a few plates off of my old Power Armor…it moved like a damned snake.” He chuckled bitterly, “After seeing that thing in action I felt really justified in hating synths...and now I’m here.”

Nick nodded, understanding. “Now for your situation, there’s three different scenarios of how you could’ve come to be in the Commonwealth. One of them, I’m sure has really been plaguing you for some time, no?”

Danse stared down into his glass, and whispered, “Yes...I’m afraid that there was a real Danse...at some point. And that they killed him and made me take his place.” He looked sick.

“Yes...that certainly is an option. But...where did you say the Brotherhood came over from before arriving here? Capitol Wasteland? And you either have real memories or implanted ones from a hypothetical “real Danse” of having lived there for some time. People on that large airship know and recognize you, no?” At this, Danse nodded. “Well, that means that everything must’ve at least started you off in the Capitol, before you migrated over here. And that’s nearly a good 500 miles away....and I just don’t really see the Institute having quite that much power or resources yet to reach that far.”

Danse looked thoughtful for a moment, mind chewing over the new perspective, “Yes, but what if they caught the real Danse when he was scouting with Reconnaissance Squad Gladius? Cornered him in some building somewhere...tortured him for his memories…” He trailed off with a haunted look.

Valentine shook his head, “It just doesn’t fit the Institute’s patterns. I’m a detective. I’ve taken on tons of cases involving missing loved ones disappearing for months at a time, only to show up out of the blue one day and no memory of ever having left. Those are the synth replacements. They always go missing for extended periods of time. Now, did anyone in this little squad of yours ever act strange around you? Ever inform you that you went missing for a period of time?”

Danse shook his head, eyes bright with some newfound hope. He hadn’t considered any of these factors. He’d only heard horror stories of people getting replaced by machines and only assumed that he must’ve been the same.

“Look kid,” The detective put his cigarette out, obviously too absorbed to care for it properly, “I’m not saying it’s impossible. Just highly improbable. In my opinion, one of the other two scenarios ring most likely. And that’s either A: the Institute got wind of the looming threat of the Brotherhood of Steel in Capitol Wasteland, and specifically built you from scratch and dispatched you to infiltrate them, or, scenario B: you're an escaped synth who had his memory wiped and rebuilt anew and you decided to join up with the Brotherhood of your own free will.”

“How do I find out for sure?”

Valentine shrugged, “To be honest you may never find out for sure. But the first leads to follow would be the Railroad, ask around and see if anyone there recognizes you, and then...if you feel okay with asking her...have Nora snoop around in the Institute for any records of M7-97. That's all you really can do.”

There was a pregnant pause in the air as the former Paladin mulled over the information he received. Though him having replaced a “real Danse” wasn't necessarily ruled out, the detective’s assurance that it wasn't as realistic had lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders.

“I...don't know what route I'll take to get the information I need. But...this,” he sighed and nodded, “This helps a little.”

“Eh, happy to be of help. Now, when you go back to miss Nora, you tell that brat to come on over for a visit in the morning. I'm rather sore she decided to skip out on me.”

Danse stood up, a little woozy from the liquor. “That was her plan all along. She was going to visit you after all of her chores, but it got late and she didn't want to bother you at this hour…” he looked a little sheepish, “unlike myself apparently.”

Valentine shrugged and gave him a polite smile, “It's no worry. Now don't hurt yourself thinking on it too much. Trust me, dwelling on the problem doesn't help.”

Danse nodded, though he knew he wouldn't be able to follow that line of advice. He turned to the door to leave, emotionally and mentally exhausted, “Thank you...Valentine.” That was the first time he used it’s...his name.

Nick waved him away, and said simply. “Take care of our gal, Danse.”

When he returned to the Inn, the bar was closed and the lights were dimmed. Silently, he entered their shared room and discarded his boots and leather jacket, noting that his feet were still raw and tender. He was really going to have fix that in the morning.

“Mm...Danse? Are you okay?” Came a hoarse and groggy voice from the room’s bed. He mentally kicked himself a little for having woke Nora up. She hadn't got much sleep the night before when she collected him from the bunker.

“Yeah...I'm feeling a lot better.” he whispered as he lowered himself onto the couch.

“Hey...I'm...I'm sorry for earlier. For not being there for you.” she sounded upset, “I should've paid you more attention and -”

“No. I don't want you to put your life on pause just for me. You were enjoying yourself socializing, there’s no need for you to regret that. You seem to often forget that you need to take care of yourself as well.”

She just made a simple “hmm” sound and sat up in bed.

“Nora…” the favor he wanted to ask of her sat on the tip of his tongue. He decided against bringing it up at this time, and blurted out something else that's been on his mind, “Can you...tell me what it's like to have a real childhood?”

A thick pause hung in the air and Danse mentally kicked himself for such a stupid and awkward question. It was so out-of-the-blue and he couldn't help but think, ‘here we go again. Time to make an awkward ass out of yourself, Danse’

He heard her ruffling around in her sheets as she got up out of bed. “Sure, no problem big guy.” She said with a hint of a smile hanging on her voice. His heart gave a little jolt. If he was weird to her, she never let it show and always treated him like he was her equal. A small blush bloomed on his face.

She padded over to his couch with her blanket draped around her like a cloak and settled herself on the other end of the sofa, by his feet. Unable to prevent herself from annoying him, she tickled his naked feet a little before nestling in and making herself comfy. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Everything.” he whispered, voice a little thick with emotion. He wanted to know something real. Something that makes people alive.

“Hmm...let's see…” she began thoughtfully, “Well, I was born here in Boston, but I actually grew up in Root, New York on a small rural farm. It's about a good 200 miles west of here. My dad used to be a big wig computer scientist for Robco here, but when his dad died, he decided to give everything up to work on the small family farm he had inherited.” she rustled around a little, crushing his feet, “I guess my mother didn't like that though and left us.” she shrugged, “it wasn't a big deal or anything- the older I got the more I got over it. Her loss.” He couldn't help but detect a small hint of bitterness in her voice however, but decided not to bring it up.

“Dad was really great. He was the one that taught me how to shoot a rifle when I was around ten. We used to go turkey hunting every holiday, and it was an absolute blast.”

“What’s a turkey?” Danse interjected.

She sounded mock-disgusted, “Geez. Surrounded by a bunch of post-war barbarians. They were these huge birds native to this part of the world. We would hunt them as a tradition for holiday meals and stuff.”

Huge birds, Danse thought with surprise, even the prewar era had its own set of monsters….

“- and growing up on the farm was hard work, but really fun. We grew a whole bunch of different crops...corn, soy, some alfalfa. It was all bought up and used as livestock feed for the surrounding farms.”

It was interesting to hear that her life shared similarities to some of the postwar settlements 200 years into the future. He had always just assumed that she grew up lazily, living in the extreme excess and luxury everyone prewar seemed to have.

“But dad never stopped being a computer geek. We couldn't really afford a lot of farm hands, so he had a whole bunch of refurbished bots help us out.” She sighed happily, “I can't even tell you how many late nights we had staying up and repairing those things together. Just me and him, listening to some Rosetta Tharpe or Hank Williams as we meticulously rewrote strings of code to improve the robot’s production capabilities, or downloaded new software over the military’s ARPANET network in secret.” she looked over to him in the dark, barely visible, “you know, civilians weren't authorized to use terminal interconnecting networks, but uh...that never really stopped us.”

“Breaking the law even as a child. Somehow that doesn't surprise me,” he let out a small chuckle. It felt good to laugh.

“Yeah whatever.” her own voice warm with amusement, “It was stupid to put military sanctions over something so useful in the first place. I could only imagine how much better off the world would’ve been if everyone had that type of technology at their fingertips...or...at least I used to think that.” her voice grew dim, and she sighed.

“You see...that was kind of our undoing. Someone at Robco must've felt real sour towards dad at having left. One night, when we decided to do our monthly software updates, we overlooked this bit of code that had been worked in beneath our noses.” she squeezed at his feet, as a weird way to comfort herself, “A farm hand was killed….crushed to death by our infected bot gone rogue...we lost everything Danse. The farm, all of our money. We found the string of code that definitely had the signature of Robco’s meddling, but we couldn't do anything about it. Dad was already in deep shit for using the military net and nobody would've believed us…” she leaned back dejectedly, “he went to jail...died soon after. Of heartbreak or embarrassment...I don't know.”

Danse’s breath caught sharply at the back of his throat. Had he known her childhood had been so painful he would've never brought it up. He had been selfish. “Nora...I'm sorry I didn’t-”

“Hey don't be sorry! It was a long time ago. And you know...instead of pitying myself I just got insanely mad at it all and decided to be productive about it. Yeah, it really, really fucking hurt for a long time, and I was extremely bitter about it, but...dwelling on my own pain never helped me in the long run.”

A strange sense of Deja Vu hit the man as he recounted Valentine’s own warning against dwelling on being a synth. The coincidence sent chills down his spine. The empathy he felt for this woman almost had him feeling human again.

“I used that rage to become the hero that dad and I really needed during that time. We were dealt a really shit lawyer that didn't know a circuit board from a brick wall. I grew up, went on to get an undergraduate in computer sciences, and then got my J.D. at the most prestigious law school in Boston. It took a shit ton of work and I had to struggle for it the whole time...but I finally accomplished my goals.”

Danse felt his face grow hot again. He felt nothing but extreme admiration for the woman who sat bundled up like a small child at his feet. Dealt with nothing but a set of shit cards in her life, she continued to make something out of herself and exceed all odds.

With the Brotherhood behind him, he came to the slow realization that she had silently slipped into being at the center of his life...and decided that she was everything that he wanted to become.

“Nora…” he whispered into the dark.

Her only response was a soft snore. Apparently she had drifted off right after saying her piece. She did sound drowsy the whole time she was talking. He smiled to himself. The woman really was like a child.

Tenderly, he lifted her from the couch and placed her upon the small, twin sized bed. Her brows knitted in worry and she called out in her sleep “Hmm...Nate…”

He looked at her sadly, heart going out to her, “Shh...it's okay...go back to sleep.” and brushed some of the hair from her face. She mumbled something then, seemingly satisfied, and fell back into a deep slumber.

He lingered only moments longer, before feeling wrong and awkward about it and returned to his own sleeping roll upon the couch. He fought with his own infatuations, imagining futures that could never exist with a friend he had too much respect for. Eventually, after an hour of fighting with his emotions, he too, drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I figured the world of Fallout is a far more militarized America with limited technology. They have old school computers that looked to lack any Internet access. So, I envisioned that after ARPANET (one of the earliest forms of the internet) was formed I the 1960's, the military took it over and hoarded it for its own uses. 
> 
> And since in the Fallout universe, Robco is like the most technologically advanced computer and robotics manufacturers, I just figured they would have access to it as well, because they probably dabbled in military contracting. And that's why Nora's dad knew how to access it. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you like that little headcanon of mine!


	5. A Trip to the Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. Work has picked up leaving me with only a couple hours at the end of the day to bust out a couple paragraphs. I intended for more to happen in this chapter, but once I start writing the characters and story kind of take over themselves and I barely have a say. Enjoy!

“I can't believe you're actually the Minutemen’s General. You see the irony in that right?” 

“Shhh!” Nora turned around and grabbed the Power Armor-clad man by one of his brackets and tried fruitlessly to drag him towards herself. He just stared her down with a cocked brow. “Keep your voice down! I don't want Preston to know I'm a failure at all things military.” she sheepishly looked over their shoulders to see if Preston had heard her. The minuteman just continued chatting up Piper, much to the reporter’s uninterest. “Oh you poor angel,” Nora said, with a look of sympathy, “My sweet Preston, you don't know what you're trying to get yourself into.”

Danse followed her train of sight and rolled his eyes. He already had been irritable that Piper decided to tag along with them, acting sullen and abrupt in any conversation he felt he had the misfortune of having with her. She had apologized profusely to him for what happened a week and a half ago, but Danse was slow to trust and stubborn. Which was expected, but still rewarded Nora with a massive headache.

Trying to get her friends to like one another...or at least act amicable towards one another...was like trying to slap water into solid shapes with her bare hands. She supposed she deserved it though for bothering to try.

“The Minutemen were disorganized and overly altruistic in manner. They spread themselves so thin they collapsed for embarrassing reasons. Do you really want to waste time and resources for a lost cause like that?”

“Whoa Danse...it's early...and you're acting like a real brat lately.” She lifted one of hands to shield the early morning sun from her eyes. Was that a ghoul up there...or...a bush?

He just snorted, unfazed by such a childish insult. “Nora...don't you already have enough on your plate?”

Oh boy did she. Danse didn't even have a clue. Nobody did. Hell, she was even in constant denial of exactly how much shit she was in. Countless of responsibilities to hide from. “Danse,” she began slowly, already getting tired of his nagging, “I know. And I agree with you,” she sighed, “and I really didn't know what I was getting into when I agreed to be General. I didn't think anything real would come of it. You know…I was just trying to be nice. Preston is a really great kid, who really sticks his limbs out there for people. Myself included,” she dared another glance at her Colonial dressed friend and smiled, “he just looked so sad all the time...I wanted to help make him smile a little.”

“All I see is an overly nice simpleton playing dress up, who’s too naive to understand how the real world works.” He shook his head, “Look at him. A prime example. He has no clue what he's doing right now. Obviously the reporter isn't interested.”

Nora grabbed at the bridge of her nose, silently willing that Danse go away to annoy somebody else. Living in a world without quick access to coffee in the morning was hell. Living without coffee with a loud, thudding, Power Armor wearing, nagging former stubborn ass BOS synth friend just made her mind feel like it was melting. 

“Oh yeah, because you're one to judge. You're a real Casanova, Danse.” Her voice turned sickly sweet, “Gosh, I simply wonder how you can find the time to accompany us with all of those suitors after you.”

“Th-thats not the point!” he sputtered furiously. “You can't run a military force on being nice, Nora. You can't stop for every person in the Commonwealth and break your back for them.”

“What exactly do you want from me?” she hissed at him, “we’ve already marched halfway to Fort Independence, and I’m not turning around again. I'm damn tired of walking back and forth across the stupid Commonwealth, I'm damn tired of not following through with the things I say I'll do, and letting them pile up until I choke to death on them, and I'm really tired of not having any damn coffee, because I'm a real bitch without it.”

Were they just now freshly acquainted, Danse might have recoiled slightly at her poisonous tone. He just merely scoffed however, well aware of her morning routine of being snappy. He continued to walk abreast of her, in silence. 

She sighed and reached into her bag for some gum to chew. Stupid Danse...stupid Preston. Stupid Commonwealth for being all post-apocalyptic. She smacked her teeth together in quiet rage as she gnawed on her gum. She would kill for a Slocum Joe’s right now. 

Around midday, the four companions (and Dogmeat) stopped to rest at an abandoned diner halfway between Sanctuary and Fort Independence. Nora inspected her Pipboy to gauge how much longer it would take before they reached their destination. “Well...we planned on this. It'll be another six hours before we get there. Anybody else dislike the idea of exterminating mirelurks in the dark?”

“Looks like we’re only about 2 hours away from Diamond City though. You know, if holing up for the night in a place where we don't have to sleep with one eye open appeals to you.” Preston suggested helpfully. 

Piper decided to throw in her two cents, “Didn't you say we needed more arms to supply the Minutemen? Arturo will have closed shop by the time we get there...but you know, Goodneighbor’s got a really good selection. I also suspect a black arms market might be running through there, and even though I don't necessarily agree with it, I would love to go undercover to follow up on some leads-”

Disapproval practically radiated off of the former Paladin. “You want to arm vigilantes with questionably supplied weapons? You can't be serious!”

“Danse for the last time, the Minutemen weren't vigilantes! We actually helped the people of the Commonwealth. We didn't go around bullying the common settler with over compensating armor and insane religious zealotry-”

“Oh I can definitely make you eat those words if you'd like Garvey-”

Nora slammed her fists a countertop, “Hey! Shut up! Everybody shut the hell up, or I swear to god nobody will get to kill any Mirelurks” They all looked confused. “I mean it,” she thrust a finger at Preston “No Castle for you,” one at Piper, “No reporting for you,” and finally Danse, “And uhh...I guess you’re just tagging along with me... what’s your favorite thing? Well, you're not gonna get any of that either!” 

That seemed to get their attention. Good. 

“Piper’s...not wrong. Goodneighbor’s our best bet to arm up whatever surviving members of the Minutemen are left...but I want to do this right. If the Minutemen are to get a fresh start, we need to maintain a clean track record.”

“Then dealing with a cesspool like Goodneighbor sounds like the opposite of what you're trying to achieve.” reasoned Danse. 

Nora shrugged, “It's one of those situations. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. At any rate, I’ll be going to Goodneighbor...you can follow me if you'd like.” In all honesty, Nora kind of really liked Goodneighbor. It was like a really shoddy quilt sewn together by patches of the odd and downtrodden. She liked the whole message too...just the execution was a little lacking at times. Okay, a lot lacking. Definitely not a place for completely restful sleep. 

Though she could tell he was less than thrilled to travel to Ghoul City, Danse decided to drop the issue. Either out of respect for her decision making, or out of the knowledge that she was too damn stubborn to sway, she didn't know. At least things started to feel a little more normal again. Haunted looks and perpetual worry started to slowly be replaced by their casual bickering...over everything. 

She knew deep down he was still being eaten up inside, but everyday, she stuck by his side, and everyday he looked a little stronger for it. She was well aware that even time itself couldn't heal all wounds...but keeping busy, and having people close to you was like a balm that slowly made the pain more and more bearable, until usually, only a dull throb remained. The scars would flare up occasionally and hurt like hell, but somehow you eventually begin to learn that it’ll be okay. It really will be okay. You keep moving with your head held high and one day you'll make it out of the shadows.

Nate had helped her realize that, long ago, with his ever calm, nearly insufferable optimism. He came back from a war he didn't want to fight, like his father before him, and his grandfather before that, like all men prewar did. Fighting a perpetual war that never ended. She thought he would've been changed, but his eyes softened at the sight of her and was able to find laughter easily when they were together. And she felt so selfish in her own postpartum depression - she was so ashamed. But he would hold her close and tell her that it was okay- she had brought their son into the world after nine long months of carrying him, nurturing him with her own body, all the while when he was away from home- and that it was okay for her to be weak after being so damn strong. That she didn't diminish in his eyes and shouldn't ever diminish in her own. 

So, after he was home for good, day after day he would stay by her side, and day after day she would be stronger for it. 

An unconscious smile must've been lingering on her face as she came out of her reverie. Unintentionally, she caught Danse’s eye briefly before he stalked out of the diner with a sullen look on his face. His “pouty” face as Nora called it. 

“Do you often smile like that after you shut him down?” Piper plopped down beside her unceremoniously and made herself comfortable, “If I didn’t know any better Blue, I’d say there’s a thing going on between you two.”

Nora knitted her brows in confusion, “Excuse- what?”

Piper studied her nails nonchalantly, “Oh, I dunno. You guys are always traveling together. I mean, he obviously dislikes the idea of helping out the Minutemen...but here he is, following you around like a puppy.”

Nora snorted, “Psh...he owes me.” She shrugged her shoulders, “I’m just calling in a favor. It’s nice to have some Power Armor on our side, ‘cause lord knows I won't be getting in any anytime soon.”

Piper grinned, “You still haven’t gotten over your fear Blue? Even after being in the Brotherhood? Isn’t wearing it a requirement?”

“Nope. They frown heavily upon me not wearing it, but I’ve always been more of a distance shooter anyways.”

Piper continued, “I was talking to Garvey earlier and he said you literally tripped and fell several stories face first in a set while in Concord.” 

It was true...embarrassingly enough. Though she had good reasons. Right when she got in she flashed back to being stuck in the cryo pod, helplessly clawing at the door to stop them from taking Shaun, had a panic attack, tripped over the bracket that had held the minigun crashed into the street below her. More than half of her suit was damaged after that...and then a deathclaw came out of nowhere. Power Suits and confined spaces were a nightmare. 

She just sheepishly smiled and nodded. 

“But seriously, let’s not get off of topic. I know you’re trying to get out of this.You and soldier boy,” She tipped her head towards outside, “you definitely have a thing going on.”

“Piper no-”

Piper started ticking off reasons on her fingers, “You guys bicker constantly, I mean absolutely all the freaking time, but you’re still good friends,” another tick, “you guys are constantly around one another, and you flirt with him all the time,” two more, “ I catch the guy going all doe-eyed when he looks at you and thinks no one else is looking,” Nora looked mortified, “and you were definitely smiling like a schoolgirl with a crush just a second ago.”

And now, for the first time in decades she also sported a blush like a schoolgirl. “Piper! Absolutely not!”

She hadn’t known that Danse might’ve been looking at her in that light. Yeah, he had tried to kiss her, but he was blackout drunk. She never held it against him, or thought more into it than necessary, and he didn't seem to remember any of it. And of course, she flirted with him, because she could tell it made him uncomfortable. It was funny to keep him on his toes. She thought that maybe she had offset that enough with annoying the living shit out of him, or being so absolutely stubborn in her ways and he in his that the constant butting of heads would make it obvious that she wasn’t being serious. She respected him, called him friend, but she never once considered it would go further than that. 

And when she had smiled earlier she was thinking about Nate...wasn’t she?

“Piper I’m...I’m not sure I would be ready for a relationship. If you’re hunch was right of course...which I’m not saying it is! Just..” She looked at her own feet and felt a sharp ache in her chest. The scars flaring up again. “It felt like I just lost him...I’ve been awake and wandering these strange lands for over a year and a half now. But it’s...raw still.”

Piper nodded in sympathy, “I understand Blue...I mean, but in all purposes it has been a lot longer than that, over a decade now right?”

Try six. Nora had decided against telling anyone the actual truth about Shaun and how much time actually passed. Denial. Hide the problem. Run from your feelings. 

“And I’m sure...well by the way you’ve described Nate...I’m sure above all else he would want you to be happy. Blue...just...don’t be afraid to live your life for yourself you know? In between sacrificing countless of hours looking for your son, or even helping settlers, Preston, Nick, Danse or even myself...don’t forget about you.”

Nora just continued to absently watch her shoes draw invisible patterns on the floor. 

“And besides, if you did go after him, he’s a far better choice than most of the people in the Commonwealth. Yes, he’s an ass- like a real annoying one- but I think he means well most of the time. Also, he’s (mostly) clean, smells fine, isn’t a raider, knows his way around most guns, and,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “is quite the looker. I can’t deny that, even if I’d like to out of spite sometimes.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Piper, for now, just get it out of your head, huh? I’m not looking to hook up with Danse any time soon, if ever.” she thrust a finger into the reporter’s shoulder, “and I can’t believe you’re giving me the third degree after earlier today! I should be annoying you over Preston, not the other way around!”

Piper shooshed her and nervously looked over her shoulder to see if Preston had heard. To her relief, it didn’t seem so, as he continued to dig for anything that might be useful for the group in the back storeroom. “God Blue, do you have to yell? Listen, Preston is a good friend, and he’s really nice...but I’m...just not used to it I guess. Nobody has ever been this nice to me and it’s weird.”

Nora scoffed, “Are you being serious? Preston is a goddamned gentleman!”

“I’m not saying he isn’t it’s just...look, he was just casually testing the waters. I’m not gonna lead him on or anything. I just want to be friends. And I think he got the hint earlier and seemed more than fine with it.”

“Good. Don’t you hurt that angel.”

Piper rolled her eyes and got up. “C’mon Blue. I’m getting tired of this musty place. Let's round everybody up and get the hell out of here.” 

They arrived in Goodneighbor around nightfall, to a large commotion. A man had been shot dead in the streets, and a huge crowd had started to surround the scene. People were killed here all the time - so much so that the people of Goodneighbor almost saw murder as a non-event. Nothing was adding up.

“Safetys off...I don’t like the look of any of this.” Danse mumbled to everyone in the group. Only Nora seemed to heed his advice. He was usually right on the money with his instincts, as months of traveling with him had taught her. 

Piper reached out to a ghoul woman who was close by. “Ma’am, hey what happened here?”

“The watch shot little Sammy down! After missing fah months! They shot ‘im down, and he ain’t even have a knife on ‘im. Bastahds.” She choked out between a cloud of cigarette smoke.

A junkie nearby decided to interject, “Ah shut up Carla. That wasn’t no Sammy! Hasn’t been for a couple weeks now. He wasn’t doin’ no drugs, wasn’t cheatin’ on his wife. I bet it was a no good Institute synth spy - it just wasn’t like him at all. The watch has our backs Carla, I’m telling you.”

Out of her peripheral Nora had noticed Danse go pale. Shit. This was not good. She knew nobody would outright know the man was a synth...but tensions and suspicion would be at an all time high, and four out-of-towners would likely be under the most scrutiny.

Nearly unconsciously, she pushed through to the center of the throng. A young man around her age lay, broken, and scalp caked with blood (she couldn't tell what his hair color must've been). Two heavily armed men in fedoras stood watch. 

“Can you tell me what happened here?” Eyes hard and voice thick with assertiveness - her courtroom interrogation face. Before either of the guards could blow her off, a solitary voice cut through rabble.

“What twisted, unneighborly boogie man would want to hurt our peaceful community?” Mayor Hancock, in all his Ghoulish charm sauntered before the crowd - his bodyguard Fahrenheit and her lackeys close behind like a shadow. His scarred face twisted into a huge Cheshire grin upon noticing her. “Nora! Hot damn what a time for you to be here.”

She smiled politely. She liked Hancock and how off-colored and interesting he was, but the whole situation felt like a ticking time bomb. “Hey Hancock,” she said casually enough, “you know me, an extreme hobbyist at being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He chuckled, “Don’t I know it. Now you see, this whole place is all up and in a craze over some supposed synth bodysnatcher. And I want to put everyone’s fear to rest, really, I do. When my town is panicked like this, it kills my vibe you see? Panicked fucking people, make me feel like I ought to arm and stomp some heads in before it gets out of control. So, my dear, you know plenty about synths, blew countless of their heads off before...so, is this guy the real deal?”

She paused, assessing the situation. She knew what she had to do. She looked over her shoulder to see her friends’ reactions. Piper and Preston looked anticipatory. Danse still looked pale but his eyes were hardened. He nodded to her. She brought her attention back to Hancock, “Yeah...but it’s gonna be a bit gruesome. The Synth Component is located in the head…”

He pat her shoulder, “Well, luckily there’s already a huge hole in it.” He nodded to one of the Neighborhood Watch, “Nice shot by the way man.” The man merely winked at him.  
This never was easy. Kellogg...the Coursers...and now this random man she didn’t know. She tried to steady herself to the best of her ability. Her hands shook a little as she reached for the man’s scalp. Pieces of skull easily chipped away and bits of brain matter seeped out. She choked gagged when her index and thumb went in to search for the Synth Component. She could hear people make disgusted noises, some in protest, some in shock and anger. Hancock merely looked on with a brow raised in slight interest. 

She had it. She made sure to look away as she pulled it out. “Here…”she held it up for Hancock to inspect, “He was a synth…” He merely nodded and turned to address the crowd. 

As he gave his speech to the citizens of Goodneighbor, riling them up against the Institue and bringing them back under his fold, Preston found a bottle of clean water and started washing blood and gore from Nora’s hand as Piper massaged small circles into her back as she dry heaved. 

“Fuck,” she gasped for air, “That’s never easy to do.” She looked up once her stomach calmed down and saw that Danse had picked up the Synth Component and was studying it intensely in his Power Armor’d hands. She couldn’t quite pick up on the emotions that were reading across his face, but her own chest clutched in empathy for him. 

She wished she heeded his advice and stayed clear of Goodneighbor. For his sake. 

A scarred hand slapped her on the back, “You gonna be okay there, sister?” The crowd had dispersed leaving her crew and Hancock with his own men. She nodded slowly. “Thanks for the assistance...I had hoped it wouldn't have ended that way and that I would only have to kill my Watch for fucking up, but…” He threw his arms out, “He we are….what a funny little situation,” His voice was filled with humor. Nora absently wondered how he could be so light hearted after such an event. “What’re you doing here anyways? Especially with the crowd you brought. Thought Crew Cut hated it here.” 

For the first time ever, trying to get a rise out of Danse failed. His eyes rang hollow as he shrugged, Synth Component dangling in his hand by his side. 

Hancock seemed perplexed, but before he could harass Danse any further, Nora spoke up, “We’re bringing back the Minutemen- heading to Fort Independence to reclaim its base. We needed to stop here for the night and arm up.”

“You’re-what?!” Hancock sputtered out between choked laughs, “Do you know how crazy that sounds? The Minutemen sucked at their jobs anyways. Just let ‘em die.” 

She could hear Danse’s sigh and could practically feel the heat radiating off of Preston’s body in anger. She spoke before the man had a chance to start a squabble. “Well, that’s what we’re doing. And you’re speaking to it’s General, Hancock.” She smiled amicably, though she was tired. 

Hancock threw his arms into the air, “You’re such a weirdo you know that? But holy damn do I love it! You never stop being interesting, ya hear me?” He looked around the city’s square in thought, then sighed, “I’d really, really love to see this. Outrageous shit seems to always follow you around. But things are tense around here with that scare, and I have to figure out a way to double security to make sure this shit doesn’t happen again. I don’t need more of my people being snatched up by the Institute.” He looked thoughtful, “But, if you do need extra gun, there’s this guy I know down at the Third Rail. MacCready, a sharpshooter. He doesn’t come cheap though.”

Nora perked up at the word “sharpshooter”. She was good with a rifle, but she had really really been craving to learn longer distance shooting. She wondered what the others thought of a hired gun though. Danse would probably not approve. She looked up at him. He still looked to be deep in thought and far away. “I uh...think we’d like to freshen up a bit first. Get our sleeping arrangements settled. It's been…a really long day.” A long couple of weeks more like. 

“Let me buy your rooms at Hotel Rexford as thanks. I'll even get you the glitzy (mostly) roach free ones. Aren't I the absolute best?”

Nora grinned. “You're something alright.”


	6. An Existential Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Over 1,000 views! And so many Comments and Kudos! You guys thank you so much! I cant even tell you how happy this makes me feel. Its so very encouraging to know that people enjoy reading about the stories that play out in my mind. Thank you so very much!
> 
> A little fluff here. Hopefully it went well and isn't complete trash. Anyways, enjoy!

“Danse! I know you're in there! Open the door!” She had been pounding on the fragile, termite-pocked door belonging to his room for awhile now, to no answer.

Hotel Rexford had already been booked and filled to the brim when they had arrived there. Hancock however, was gracious enough to kick out several tenants who were already paying customers, despite Nora’s continuous pleas against throwing people out on the streets for her. At the very least, he didn't need to procure them four separate rooms. 

Preston and Piper had already headed into the market, mainly to Kill or be Killed to pick up guns and ammo. She was invited along but turned them down with the excuse of being tired. Much to her chagrin, Piper seemed to see right through her BS and winked at her suggestively. “Go get ‘im tiger!” she had whispered. Nora angrily rolled her eyes and shooed her away. 

Of course that's not why she was at Danse’s door right now, smashing her fists to pulp and quickly growing angry from being ignored. It was childish, she knew, and she should probably let him have his space, but she wasn't a patient woman, and she wanted to help. “Damn it let me help you! You know I won't go away! Just open the door so we can get this over with faster! Argh!” The door turned inwards as she flew forward and landed by his feet in a crumpled heap.

“Stubborn ass.” was all she heard him say before she felt herself being hauled off the dirty carpet and hastily plopped back down on her feet.

“Oh...hey Danse.”

“Hey.” he sat back down on his bed, clad only in a plain white T-shirt and slacks. His Power Armor loomed in the corner and his rifle was broken down for cleaning on a dilapidated dresser. He continued smoking a cigarette- Synth Component lazily dangling in his left hand. 

“Do you...want to talk about it?”

He just raised a brow and a dry expression pasted across his face. 

“I'll take that...as a yes?” Obviously not. But they both knew it was going to happen. She decided to take a seat next to him on the bed, and waited for him to speak first.

He leaned in close to her and held the component before her face. “This…is everything that makes me up. This thing is in my head, with pre-programmed thoughts, feelings, ideas. This is my soul. Fabricated. Artificial.” he sucked in some more smoke, “I can't even begin to explain to you, how this makes me feel. To know I'm not real.” he leaned his head back against the wall. “Makes me feel...like I'm watching life go on from outside of my body. Talking to you right now, in this moment, is like a fractured dream, that I'm fighting to wake up from.”

His devastation was so palpable that it sent chills down her spine. His emptiness was one thing, but his feelings of inhumanity lit her chest on fire, and filled her with fury that she was intimately familiar with. It was the same rage when she had confronted Kellogg...and upon meeting the real Shaun. 

She smoothed over the wrinkles on her pants in an attempt to calm herself and let out a shaking breath. Nora wasn't exactly sure how to comfort the man, but she had to try her best - she did practically break into his room to do so at least.

“Scientifically...you're not so different from the average person. Technically, all of us are controlled by our genes, just like the code in your mind. We’re all subject to the neurotransmitters exciting the synapses in our brain...cells acting almost identically to electronic capacitors that charge and discharge electricity between one another. And don't get me started on the various hormones and organic steroids of the Endocrine system. Shit Danse, you ever see me PMSing? I can't control the hormone high that happens every month. I cry at stupid things and don't even know why I'm mad sometimes it gets so bad.” She grinned and snuck a glance at the man. He looked uncomfortable as he scratched at the back of his head with his free hand and looked away. 

Gently, she took his hand that held the Component into both of hers turned to fully face him, “This...doesn't matter. This isn't you. Just as much as my hormones aren't me. You are an amazing, multi-faceted, kind, selfless, and loyal friend.” she shook her head, “and this little bit of plastic and metal doesn't change that.”

A thick pause formed as he held her stare. The air was heavy and she could feel it's electricity caress her skin all the way down her body and up again into her chest and abdomen. 

There was an intensity she hadn't seen before... Were his eyes always this soft shade of brown? And there was a hunger in them...not a sexual one...not really. It was something else. A hunger to be saved. A thirst for understanding, and a desire for closeness that seemed to have eluded him his entire life. Had his gaze always been this lonely? Drinking in the world but never able to sate themselves? She didn't want him to be alone anymore.

Her lips parted slightly as she felt herself drown in his eyes. 

And then Piper’s words burned into the back of her mind and she internally panicked. Just as quick as the moment happened, it ended. She dropped her hands from his own and readjusted herself to be a little less close to him. He seemed to not have noticed the blush that formed on her face, and didn't get upset at her recoiling (did she cover it up well enough? Her chest was pounding). He just ran a free hand through his thick mane of hair and sighed.

“It doesn't mean anything. Biologically, we may be similar. But I'm still a fabrication, holding onto something that isn't real. Nora...I don't have a soul.”

She snorted, and squeezed a little at his arm above the elbow, “Danse...mankind has been asking itself whether the soul exists or not since we first started walking upright. It's the Philosophical debate of all eternity.” she shrugged, “None of us really know. Some may profess to know, but I've personally never had any inclination or assertion that I know. I was raised with a robotics scientist, remember? I’m rather secular. And personally? I don't really give a damn. I'm here, in the now, right in this moment with you. I don't need a heaven or hell looming over me to guide my actions or to take any pleasure of the present from me. And that's what free will is anyways right? Disregarding outside forces, or even internal forces, if you're really still worried about your coding...you disregard it, decide not to give a damn, and live your life however you see fit, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else.”

Thoughtfully, he took a long last drag on his cigarette and discarded it's butt in the ashtray sitting beside his bed. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he sat there for some time, nodding a little while staring at something Nora couldn't see. An internal struggle. She hoped he didn't feel she was full of shit...well...more than she usually was. 

“You know,” he finally spoke out, “I hate telling you this. Because I really wanted to be left alone. And I hate it when you're right. But...this helped. A little. I still don't like the idea of talking out my “feelings”...I’m not good at this type of thing. And you're so damn infuriating all the damn time...you know that right? I seriously berate myself all the time for deciding to tag along on your crazy ventures.” He stared at her, an obvious struggle painted upon his face, “but dammit, when I'm around you...even though you're insane, clarity tends to find its way to me again, after struggling with my despair and disassociation all day long. You speak nonsense constantly, but here you are...saying some of the wisest words I've ever heard...right when I needed to hear them.”

She smiled, with a hint of confused perplexity on her face, “Uhh...thank you? You know you really do have a bad habit of being insulting and complimenting at the same time. You ought to get that looked at. That was a lot of crazy bombs.”

He chuckled, “Well...if the shoe fits.”

“Oooh, look at you getting all sassy again.” She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. Yes. Crisis averted. Victory again. And it always tastes so sweet. 

“Hm, now that conceited victory face of yours is showing.”

She feigned being appalled, “No way! I don't have one of those!”

“Oh yes you do. And it's almost as ugly as those gross snorting laughs of yours.” 

Which, upon mentioning started to promptly escape from her lips in a tumultuous staccato. 

He shook his head. “At least your smile is nice.”

As her laughter eventually ebbed away, the warmth in her cheeks wasn't only an aftermath of her mirth. “Pfft...so you don't think I'm completely ugly! I'm never gonna let you live this down!”

“I refuse to comment.”

“Oh, I bet you think I'm prrreeeetty.” She teased in a singsong voice.  
He turned slightly pink and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at her antics, “Now you're just going too far.”

“Oh but you don't deny it! I bet you're just dumbfounded and awestruck by my near Grecian goddess statuesque looks.” She flailed about in a ridiculous way as if to present herself. 

He rolled his eyes. “I kind of get the reference...but obviously it's your humility that deserves a statue.” 

“Oh most definitely. I couldn't agree with you more.”

Nora was proud of the man. Not only was he able to switch gears from deep personal anguish to a type of reserved joviality (which made her think of how he carried on with his job as a soldier all the while still plagued by PTSD), he had also come a very far way with his sarcasm and bullshitting since she first met him. Yeah, he still sounded like a walking thesaurus, but his dorkiness was ridiculously charming in a way. And of course, endlessly entertaining. 

He was so damn strong. Sometimes, she didn't give him enough credit and continuously felt the need to protect him. But...it really was all him. She was just there to help. 

And this made her ridiculously happy and optimistic for the future. His continued, thriving life, and also optimistic that one day, she would overcome her own mountain of problems. 

They sat in comfortable silence for some time, before the idea that Hancock had formed in her mind hours ago came worming back.

“Danse?”

“Mhmm?”

Almost shyly she asked,” Can we hire that guy to teach me how to be a sharpshooter?”

His brows knitted instantly. “I don't like guns for hire. They're highly undisciplined, often have unscrupulous morals, and lack loyalty. Do you really want someone like that at your back?”

Stern Danse back in his stern pants. Nora instantly deflated. God dammit. 

He must've noticed, and perhaps felt guilty or charitable or something, because his next words were, “But...I'd consider it...if you let me interview him with you.”

Instantly, she jumped up in an excited flurry and whooped loud enough for the tenants below them to hear and reply with a sharp rap on the floor.

Fuck yes. When she was a little girl, her father had taught her to be a decent shot with his Winchester Model 70 when they went out hunting together. Running with the Brotherhood of Steel had made her even better. But this...she had went out and purchased a sniper rifle ages ago...but she just couldn't get it down. Her breathing was all wrong, she was bad at accounting for wind speed. A little guidance may be just what she needed.

“Whatever you say goes! We can go even Good Cop Bad Cop on him.”

“The police force has been disbanded for centuries now. What is that?”

“It's where one of us butters him up and the other one intimidates the living hell out of him.”

“The Brotherhood calls that the Churchill maneuver.” She looked at him with a puzzled expression. He continued, “because he was a shrewd tactician famous for never budging.”

“Huh...well okay. You do that then….and I'll be...I dunno FDR? Stalin? No not Stalin…”

He snorted. “Come on. The quicker we get this over with, the less time I have to reconsider.”

__________________________________________________________________

Nora watched with wide eyes as the two Gunner mercs pushed past her. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Apparently they had it out for the merc she wanted to talk to for operating in their territory.

Danse stood stiff in his Power Armor with a huge scowl plastered over his face. This was going to be short lived. There was no way in hell after that debacle that he would agree to this. 

“Hey lady, if you're looking to preach about atom or want a friend or something you need to-” He fully turned to face them and noticed the hulking Power Armored man at her back, “uhh...hey. What uh...what's going on man?”

Danse remained silent and folded his arms before him disapprovingly. Nora decided to get the show on the road. “Hey there. I see that you've met my associate. Former Brotherhood of Steel Paladin Danse.” she studied her nails with disinterest, “Yeah...he was kicked out for being too much of a loose canon. Really violent fellow who just has an appetite for destruction and an endless thirst for caps.”

Danse looked at her with slight disgust. She gave him a look that screamed, ‘just go with it!’ and continued her game, “Anyways...I came here to figure out if all the stories were real. Whispers in Goodneighbor have it that you're a pretty decent sharpshooter.” She sat in a chair adjacent to the man and studied his face closely. He looked mostly dumbfounded...and definitely nervous. He kept stealing sideways glances at Danse and his trigger hand fidgeted. She needed to calm him. “Please. Have a seat. We have possible employment to discuss and you don't have to worry about us. I'm always a businesswoman first...things only get violent if you piss us off.” At that, she reached into her pocket, pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered them up to him.

After several tense moments, he gingerly took one, let her light it, and had a seat. “Yeah, I've been shooting since I was ten.”

She leaned forward and purred, “Oh my, I learned to shoot a gun around the same age. That doesn't explain your qualifications though.”

“Look lady, I've been freelance since I was sixteen. I can shoot a man between the eyes at 1600 yards, I can account for wind velocity and speed of a moving target, and I've gotten a total of 234 kills under my belt. I think I know what I'm doing.”

She looked to Danse, who seemed quietly impressed. Oh heck yes this guy was good. But before she could speak again her friend stepped forward to tower over the man.

“Who were those men? What kind of trouble are you in?”

The man leaned back, clearly irritated with the subject, “Those two morons are just trying to step on whoever they can so they can climb up the latter of Gunner success. Probably won't get them anywhere though. Shi- stuff doesn't work that way. But oh boy aren't they trying. They've been hounding me for weeks.” He sighed, “been scaring off my customers...like you are. Are you guys gonna hire me or what? There's a line forming.” He gestured towards a junkie who had accidently stumbled in. He mumbled something nonsensical and asked them if they had any jet.

Nora raised a brow and turned back to man with a sardonic expression. “Oh boy you're a popular one.”  
Danse didn't miss a beat, “I’ve had to put down many Gunners who’ve had the misfortune of crossing paths with me - they’re nothing but profiteering scum who lay waste to the innocent. And I don't like the idea of having a reprobate that runs with them at my back as I sleep at night. I figure that if you were morally destitute enough to join with them in the first place, you must lack enough sense to warrant your hire now.”

Maccready stood up to his full height - a whole foot and a half shorter than Danse in his Power Armor - and squared his shoulders. The man had balls at least, Nora thought.

“I ain't no Gunner scum Man! Joining them was a mistake. Now, if you don't mind, getting your giant, clanking as- butt, out of my face…”

Nora hopped up excitedly, “Okay! We lied! Danse isn't as cool as I said and I'm not really some mercenary femme fatale boss. I just really really need a sharpshooter instructor but we didn't want to hire a creeper!”

“Huh...what?” Was all the man was able to choke out in response. Danse laid a armored hand across his brow in irritation. 

“Yep! And Danse, I think he passed enough of our test right? Can we keep him?”

“Whoa lady, I don't know what you think this is-”

“How much?” She started digging through her pack.

He paused, slightly confused ed do about what had just transpired. “Uhh...250. Non negotiable. You really just want me to teach you sharpshooting?”

“Mhmm...oh and well, help take Fort Independence back from a horde of Mirelurks for the Minutemen. But mostly the teaching stuff. Is 200 enough?”

He sputtered, “Minutemen? Mirelurks? And no! I said non negotiable!”

“Yeah, I'm the Minutemen General.” She said nonchalantly and handed over 200 caps. “And EVERYTHING is negotiable MacCready. 

Dumbstruck, he looked to Danse to figure out if the she was crazy or not.

“Don't look at me. None of this was my idea.” was all he said as he shrugged his shoulders. 

“We leave at dawn okay? Don't keep us waiting because I really will hunt you down. The me being violent thing earlier was kind of a joke but not really. You read about me in the Diamond City Paper right? I figure people here read that paper too... Well, I like to blow shit up….so don't run off with my money.”

He nodded, mouth hanging open a little. 

And at that she waved goodbye, took the massive metal man by the arm, and strode back out into the night.


	7. A Lesson Learned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I wanted more to happen in this chapter, but the characters hijacked the story and did whatever they wanted with it. Enjoy! Please tell me if the timing is satisfactory and not rushed or OOC.

“Hey Piper! Look at what I found! You still getting down that I love blowing shit up!?” Nora shouted from across Fort Independence’s Courtyard to the reporter standing upon the adjacent wall. She had found a rocket launcher within the Fort’s interior and began waving it around dramatically. 

“Oh yeah Blue! Looking good!” Piper waved back enthusiastically, completely going along with her friend’s shenanigans as per usual. The giant man in Power Armor had scowled and tore it away from the woman however, and they got into yet another squabble. Piper just laughed and covered her mouth. 

The mission had gone off without a hitch. A quick eradication of an army of mirelurks and a sweep of the Castle’s interior to destroy any remaining eggs later and here they were. 

Nora had chose to command the remaining Minutemen in a Pincer attack, just as the Brotherhood had taught her. Flank each side and close in on the enemy. One of the few tactics of hers that Danse had actually approved of. Enthusiasticly so even. 

While the big guns closed in, Piper, Nora, and MacCready had stayed behind in cover to provide firing support. Well...Nora and MacCready. Piper was really just there to watch and log the whole skirmish. The Minutemen comeback story would sell like hotcakes if Piper had anything to say about it. 

Right after most of the commotion had died off, Nora hopped down to join the rest of the men...her men. Piper didn't know if she would ever be able to see the woman as a General. Absolutely absurd. As per usual.

“I don't get any of this. Why the heck would you people follow her around for free? I mean, she's nice and all...but...I don't know I'm just really confused as to what's going on here.” MacCready sat down next to Piper, a foot dangling languidly off off the wall’s side. He watched as the argument below unfolded into more and more colorful and ridiculous insults from the small woman as the man held the rocket launcher sternly out of reach. 

“Well...I don't think anyone else in this whole world would help out Preston like Blue’s doing. She has a huge hobby of sticking her neck out on the chopping block for friends in need….you know and she never really does ask for anything in return.”

“Hmm...well, that still doesn't explain you and the giant grouchy tin can.”

“Well…” Piper smiled, “Blue has a penchant for getting herself into trouble. She's one of those types of people who are bigger than they first appear. Her whole life is just a crazy adventure story waiting to unfold.” she winked, “and I plan on capturing it all.”

“Ahh…” he leaned back and folded his arms with a smug look upon his face, “so you are in it for the caps. You think reporting on an old prewar relic will end up in mucho denaro.” They had told MacCready earlier about Nora's story...definitely crazier than being the mayor of a town filled with only children in his books. 

“No! Don't get me wrong, getting paid for your hard work is satisfying of course. But she's actually my friend...probably the best friend I've ever had….she helped me a lot in different ways. And...if being by her side helps a little, well, I suppose I owe her.”

“And the trashcan man?”

She grinned mischievously, “Isn't it obvious? They're clearly in love.”

MacCready barked out a laugh and thrust his open hand out in their direction. “Those two clowns? All they do is fight and grumble. They're constantly at each other's throats.” He shook his head and grinned, “Lady, you're a lousy reporter if you fall to such crazy assumptions.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, “I'll tell you where you can put that in a minute MacCready! Look at them though! They fight like an old married couple. And they do it all the time, all day. I really think it's because they go looking for it. Those two like the pain.”

“Well, clearly Nora does. Her heart isn't really into it. Look at her grinning like a psycho down there as he scolds her.” He said as he toyed around with something in his pocket absently, “ If ya ask me, these two are totally incompatible.”

“No no no! Look at him too! He's purposefully overreacting. I think he does it because he’ll do anything to be close to her. It's like a comfortable, unconscious game they play with each other.” He just stared at her skeptically. “What? Seriously it true! Honestly, you think he would act like that if it were either of us walking around with a rocket launcher? He'd be wary, give us a warning, and then if that failed he'd probably just roll his eyes and scoff at us.”

“I think that's more indicative that they want to fu- bang.” MacCready corrected himself. 

Piper gave him a squinted, sidelong glance that said, ‘you're ruining everything’.

They sat in comfortable silence while watching the scene below them unfold. Preston was down there as well, with the rest of the Minutemen. He looked exasperated and helpless as he shook his head at his General and took to commanding the rest of the Minutemen to clean up duty. Nora was trying to climb up Danse’s Power Armor now to reach for her launcher. Definitely not working out in her favor. 

“Hm...what exactly do you think those two are saying to each other anyways?” MacCready asked while fiddling with the sight of his gun. He had been used to odd jobs like shake downs for people who acted too big for their own shoes, or as protection for a crime lord gone patsy...but a job taking back a freaking historical Castle from crab monsters had definitely taken the cake. 

Not to mention the weirdos involved with it all. Colonial dressed psuedo-policemen, insane vault people (his life seemed oddly plagued by them), an overly honorable yet aggressive trashcan, a dog and a nosy assed reporter was definitely the weirdest group of people he'd ever worked with. 

And he was still sore about the missing 50 caps that little snake wormed out of paying him. Maybe taking a huge share of and gorging himself on mirelurk meat would help the bitter taste in his mouth over his financial woes. Yep. He was definitely going to eat his emotions. He looked up at Piper who seemed to not have heard him. At least the women were cute to look at.

“Hey did you hear me?”

“Hm? Oh yeah. Watch this.” she paused for a moment and pointed at Danse as he began talking. Syncing up and deepening her tone the best she could, she pretended to be his voice as his mouth moved, “Citizen, you could've hurt yourself. Your weight class is far too light to handle heavy munitions. Precaution instructs me to confiscate this from you and write you a long boring letter of stuff nobody cares about. Blah blah blah, I like the rules and am very boring, blah blah but my butt looks great and I'm totally in love with you but GOD I AM A VIRGIN I'M SO SCARED.”

MacCready barked out a laugh and stood up to stand beside her. “That's pretty good stuff. Let me give it a try.”

Nora backed away as if she were going to leave the conversation with Danse down below. Then, in a pathetic attempt to fake the ex Paladin out, she jumped at him again in another attempt to climb up his Power Armor. “Oh Danse!” MacCready’s voice squeaked girlishly, “I need to climb on your bones right now! Take me you stubborn fool! I don't care leave the armor on! I've been frozen for over 200 years! The ice thawed, but the wetness of my clothes have nothing to do with that and everything to do with how horny I am for you!”

“Oh gross!” Piper punched his arm after a fit of giggles, “and why the heck did you give her a southern accent?”

He snorted, “Buh, I dunno it just sorta came out that way.” 

“We’re pretty big jerks.” she grinned. 

“Yeah...but being jerks is funn-”

The whole ground began to violently shake as an earthquake quake ripped it's way through the Castle’s courtyard. Piper and MacCready immediately huddled close to the floor, wide eyed and unsure as to what the hell was going on. 

Down below, fight completely forgotten, Danse dropped the launcher and shoved Nora to the floor in an attempt to shield her from the brunt of any rubble that might fall from the battlements surrounding them. The Minutemen scrambled for cover, except for Preston. He grabbed his rifle, charged it up, and ran towards the caved-in southern wall facing the bay. 

“I know what this is!” he roared as the quake died down. Briefly looking away from where his laser musket was trained, he continued, “Get ready! This is gonna be the big one. I heard rumors...almost legends. I didn't want to believe they were true.”

MacCready grabbed at Piper’s arm, flustered and furious, “What the hell is he talkin’ about?! What the hell have you people dragged me into?!”

___________________________________________________________________

 

“What the hell has Garvey gotten us into?! I'll kill him with his own-” Danse began and was immediately cut off by an ear piercing and inhuman shriek. 

A mirelurk of behemoth proportions scraped and clawed it's way through the hole in the Castle’s defenses. 

Time seemed to slow down as Nora’s heart leapt into her throat. This colossus was as eerie and nightmarish as an HP Lovecraft story...this...couldn't be reality… could it? Had the local fauna been this badly tainted and warped by man’s past arrogance? The thing was bubbling and choking up acidic radiation all over the ground, with little rivulets of smoke snaking up from everything it dripped on. 

She might’ve just lead nine people to their deaths.

A wave of panic struck her as she reached for the sniper rifle upon her back and grabbed at nothing but air. She must've left it upon the Eastern wall with MacCready and Piper! Was she really that careless? That profoundly stupid? 

She unholstered her magnum, knowing it would do absolutely no damage to the beast. She had to think of something. 

Danse had immediately bent over to pick up the fallen rocket launcher and charged ahead to Preston’s side as she had momentarily froze. There was no hesitation. No fumbling over a sight that even he couldn't register. There was no thinking. Only muscle memory, a will to protect, and above all else that same instinctual urge to live that had been hammered into him. 

After seeing that the Minutemen’s laser muskets doing little to no damage, Danse readied himself and fired the launcher. 

Contact made as another penetrating shriek shook the the entire area. 

That must’ve done it. Danse lowered the launcher and wiped a worried hand across his brow. As the adrenaline that had just coursed through his veins waned, the shaky after thought of what had just happened started to register in his mind. 

He'd never seen anything that massive. Deathclaws reached close, and we're certainly quicker and more agile, but that thing…

Suddenly, a torrential spray of green acid rained down on the ex Paladin, with only enough time to reflexively shield his face with his arms. 

Nora watched helplessly as the Queen, now angered, charged into the Power Armored man with the full force of a pre-war bus. 

“Danse!” a scream tore through her as she charged ahead. She had no way of defending herself. No way of attacking. It didn't matter anymore. She had to help him. Somehow...somehow... 

The beast had him pinned to the ground, attempting furiously to pierce through the man’s armor with its claws. Acid dribbled down from its maws, as it attempted to build up enough again to end the man’s life for good. 

Nora picked up the fallen rocket launcher, loaded up another missile, and fired. 

The force of it lifted her up, exhaust burning her shoulder and neck, and sent her crashing down against the ground head first. 

Everything went black.

___________________________________________________________________

“She's gonna be fine guys. Stop crowding her. Geez you're all acting like she's on her deathbed.”

As she started to come to she saw Piper hovering over her and facing away.

“How the hell do you know MacCready? Hired guns get extensive medical training? She's been out for hours…”

“Probably because her eyes are opening.” He said matter of factly. 

Piper looked at her wide-eyed and bewildered. A huge grin plastered across her face. “Nora! Danse! Hey Danse! She's waking up!”

Nora’s eyes fully snapped open. Danse. Oh God was he alright? As she attempted to sit up the man in question came over and gently pushed her back down. 

“Hey don't sit up- I haven't fully assessed your condition.” his words were clipped and cool. Was he angry with her? 

She was still outside on the ground, but a blanket had been draped over her. “You’re okay...what...what the hell happened?” 

“Blue you went full on action hero like out of a comic book. That rocket launcher picked you up and threw you like a bucking Brahmin.” Piper answered excitedly. Danse gave her a dark look that said ‘don't you encourage her’.

She paused briefly but let the threatening look slide. “Seriously though, your aim sucks. You really need to work on that. I mean, it all worked out for us end though. You hit the wall directly behind the thing and it came thundering down on top of the Queen and crushed her to bits. Luckily, Danse here rolled out of the way. But Geez it was close.”

“She won't be working on anything like aim anytime soon. Especially with a rocket launcher. Nora, can you follow my fingers with your eyes?”

Nora ignored his request, “Danse are you mad at me?”

“I don't know why he is. You saved his life for Pete’s sake. Yeah, you almost crushed him to death but-” 

“Piper!” Nora cut her off, “...please…” she sighed, “can I...have a moment alone with him?” her eyes pleaded that the reporter take her plea seriously. 

Piper nodded and smiled softly. She grabbed MacCready by the arm and patted Preston softly on the back as a motion to give the two space. 

“Danse-”

He looked exhasperated. “Can you please just do as I ask of you...for once? Follow my two fingers with your eyes. I need to see if you have a concussion.”

She finally conceded and did as he asked. 

“You eyes have full range of motion and aren't dialated. Do you feel any nausea?”

“Just a little dizziness when I tried to sit up.”

“Well...I think you might just have a very minor concussion, and your neck and spine seem fine as well. That's why we didn't move you. Everything seemed fine- no bulging vertebrae, not liquids from your ears or blood in the white of your eyes...but I just wanted to make sure-”

“Was it really that bad? Shit Danse I saw that thing - God it was terrifying- I saw it clawing at you and dribbling acid...I couldn't just sit back and watch it happ-”

“You could've gotten yourself killed!” He cut her off, “I explicitly told you that thing would be too dangerous for you to use!”

“I wasn't initially gonna use it Danse! I was just joking around. But shit, was I supposed to just watch you die? I had to do something!”

“Getting yourself killed isn't a tactic I would've thanked you for.”

She sat up now, uncaring of his protests, “What the hell is this really about anyways Danse? Are you really that fucking angry over me disobeying you? For fighting to save my friend? What about all of the times we fought together in the Brotherhood and you didn't act overly protective of me then? Hordes of Ghouls and goddamned Super Mutants fought together. I'm you're comrade, I'm going to fight and protect-”

“Nora! What the hell am I supposed to do if you die?!” His brows knit and his eyes looked hurt. Her breath caught in her throat. “What am I supposed to do?...you took...an unnecessary risk. I...so I would've survived. But if you died...for me there'd be nothing else…” 

Nora was speechless, and her eyes went bright. Any anger she had towards him washed away. She hadn't expected any of this. “What...what are you saying?” her cheeks became flushed and her mind buzzed dizzily.

“You're all I have keeping me here. I don't have any other friends. I don't have any family. You think any of these people here give a damn about me? You think anyone else in the whole Commonwealth -aside from Haylen, whom I can't even really contact- gives one damn about me?” His eyes were hard and he was shaking a little.

A feeling Nora couldn't quite describe washed over her. Impulsively, and without thinking, she grabbed a hold of him and held him tightly to herself in an embrace. “I'm so sorry I scared you….but I’m not sorry I saved you. Not one bit. Do you hear me? Because I'm selfish and I can't lose another person I care in my life either.” she disengaged and held him at arm's length to look into his eyes. A bright smile spread across her lips, “But I will be more careful in the future okay? I promise.”

Danse seemed almost comically bewildered and dumb-struck. His face was on fire, eyes were wide, and lips pursed into a straight line. He had wanted to be angry, but her embrace, her apology...her telling him he mattered to her...caught him completely off guard. “Uhh...I umm...well we can move you inside now…..you have no spinal injuries.” And with that he stood straight as a board and awkwardly walked away. 

Nora bit her lower lip to stifle a laugh. While everything she said was true, she was counting on throwing him off his guard to wiggle her way out from his anger. She would have to continue to use this tactic in the future. 

Her own cheeks were still flushed and she couldn't stop grinning. What a dork. Can't even take a compliment without sputtering furiously. And he was angry with her because he had cared...it was charmingly sweet of him….

Fuck. What was she thinking? Was her line of thought really going in that direction? She laid herself back down and laid a hand on her forehead. No no no no. NO. Just no. She didn't think he was sweet. She didn't really like the feel of his muscles pressed closely against her own body as she hugged him. She didn't watch his ass as if it were a blockbuster hit at the theaters as he walked away from her. That feeling of lightning and and butterflies in her chest didn't really happen. 

She...was crushing on the man....hard.

“Hey Blue. You done feeling up your man?”

Almost hysterically, in an odd, high-pitched voice, “PIPER I WASN'T FEELING HIM AND HIS MUSCLES UP.”

“...What?...pfft what?!” Piper choked out a laugh. “What?!”

“Nothing.” Calm and collected attorney Nora immediately took over. She sniffed and pointedly spoke, “Hey Piper. What's going on?” 

The reporter’s brow shot up and and her grin only grew larger. “Pfft..okay then Blue...anyways, Trashcan man passed us and said you're mostly fine...just a small concussion. Says you'll need bed rest for the rest of the day just to be careful, but you should be fine by the morning.” she held a hand out to her friend, “C’mon Blue let's go tuck ya in.”

Nora took her hand and immediate wooziness hit her. “Oh God I really cracked my head hard didn't I?”

“Oh yeah...we were all really worried. Thankfully Danse was around. He was the only one of us who had any form of medical knowledge...guess the Brotherhood of Steel gets some things right.” 

Nora just nodded along as Piper led her into the Castle’s interior. “Is Preston alright? I heard Danse saying something about killing him before charging off into battle.”

“Well he immediately rushed to your side after jumping out of his power armor. Geez Blue you need to see that thing. The arms are completely busted. The plates are melted to shit. But right after he made sure you were okay he immediately got into Garvey’s face and flipped absolute shit. I mean I seriously think he was gonna actually go through with what he said. But, MacCready and I stepped in and broke it up. Just had to remind the two about how you would feel about waking up to a bloodbath. Anyways, he kind of just sullenly sat by your side until you woke.”

Another small blush filled her face. Oh god she felt so pathetic for acting like a teenager again. 

Piper helped her down into a makeshift cot that one of the Minutemen set up.

“You gonna be okay here by yourself? Preston asked me for help clearing out some rubble in the western wing...:”

Nora looked thoughtful as she wrapped a blanket around herself. “Yeah...can you bring me my pack though? Maybe I'll play a few holotape games until I fall asleep.”

“Sure Blue.” and with that, the reporter left Nora alone with her pack of holotapes. 

Digging around up to the shoulder in her pack, Nora sifted around until she found exactly what she wanted. 

Out came a worn out holotape that was simply labeled, “Hi Honey!” 

She ran her fingers on the writing and sighed. Nate...his writing was always so much prettier than hers. She chuckled lightly. God she was always such a mess compared to him. He with his ever relaxed,easy smile. 

She didn't know how she had nabbed him. She was wild and silly and always high strung. But he would laugh, and play along, and love her with all of her flaws. He was her best friend. 

She missed him so damn much.

She popped in the holotape and pushed play.

“*Feedback sound.* Oopsie. Ha ha ha. No, no, no. Little fingers away. There we go. Just say it. Right there. Right there. Go ahead. *baby giggles* Ha ha! Yay! Hi honey! Listen…”

She put a hand to her mouth as she smiled and and tried fruitlessly to choke back tears. She played it until the very end. 

“...But everything we do no matter how hard, we do it for our family. Now say goodbye Shaun. Bye bye, say bye bye. Bye honey, we love you.”

As the tape ended, Nora reached around her neck and pulled a small chain out from where it was tucked into her shirt. On it, a man’s wedding ring glinted. She couldn't bare to part with it like she had own in order to survive. 

She held it to her lips and kissed it, talked into it, “Bye honey...I'll always love you Nate. Always.”

And she decided to let go.


End file.
